


we'll fulfill our dreams, and we'll be free

by o_morgan



Category: Women's Soccer RPF
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-20
Updated: 2014-01-17
Packaged: 2017-11-29 22:17:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 33,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/692101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/o_morgan/pseuds/o_morgan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>World Cup 2015 through Rio 2016. Everything before and in between.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A work in progress.

It starts with a bottle of wine. 

A bottle of wine, plus a good year of simmering tension, and flirtatious touches, and the occasional playful kiss that neither of them will admit is some sort of test.

But it all officially starts on this night while they wash dishes after dinner, red wine coursing through their veins and making their cheeks flush pink, Alex leans over towards Kelley and kisses her softly, like it's something she's done a hundred times before. This time it's not playful, and when Alex pulls her lips away, questioning everything all at once, Kelley drops the pot she was rinsing back into the sink and reaches over to pull Alex's lips back down onto hers.

The next kiss is urgency mixed with tentativeness. It's a gentle clash of lips and tongues, and Kelley's soapy hands pressed into the nape of Alex's neck, the water running a path beneath the collar of the forward's shirt, trailing between her shoulder blades and down her spine, pooling at the waistband of her jeans.

Kelley comes alive beneath Alex's lips. She's eager to take charge, pressing Alex's back into the edge of the countertop, one arm wrapped around Alex's torso, the other reaching to turn off the still-running faucet behind them.

Alex can't help the smirk against Kelley's lips. She hears Kelley mumble something about being in a drought, but the words get lost against her mouth, and Alex forgets everything when Kelley's hands slip under her shirt.

Alex had been scared to pull away too quickly, worrying that a moment of pause might let rational thoughts creep into their heads and they'd realize what a potential disaster making out with your roommate/teammate could be. But eventually Alex does pull away, lips swollen, breath quick, neck sore.

Kelley's breath is hurried on her neck, her eyes dancing wildly across Alex's face. She smiles. It's Alex's turn to take charge, maneuvering Kelley until it's her back against the counter, and then Alex is grabbing Kelley by the hips and lifting her up onto the counter.

"Holy shit," Kelley laughs.

"You're too short."

Neither of them have resumed kissing the other. Alex takes a breath, "Do you want to stop?"

Kelley licks her lips, and shakes her head slowly.

It's Alex on the tips of her toes this time, just enough to reach Kelley's mouth. And it's like they never stopped, never questioned it. Hands are back on necks, and ribs, and underneath shirts. Kelley hooks her leg behind Alex and pulls her closer. 

Alex's hand is brushing over the clasp of Kelley's bra when they hear their roommate walk through the front door.

"Fuck."

It's a scramble back to the kitchen sink, with Kelley flinging herself off the counter, the plastic cup that comes with her bounces loudly across the kitchen tile. Hands are off of hips and pulse points and the clasps of best friends' bras, and back in the soap water, the two of them desperately trying to appear like Alex wasn't about the slip her hand under Kelley's bra.

Tobin drifts into the kitchen, back from wherever it is that Tobin disappears to from time to time, and immediately starts picking at the leftovers with her fingers. 

"Hey," Alex calls out over her shoulder, still facing the sink as she swipes the back of her hand across her lips, begrudgingly wiping away any trace of Kelley. 

"What's up with you guys?"

"Nothing," Alex's attempt at casual comes out rushed and high-pitched.

Tobin bends over to pick up the plastic cup that's still rolling around the kitchen floor, "Kelley's been washing that same pan since I came into the kitchen."

Alex looks over at Kelley, and she's staring off into space, dragging a washcloth in slow circles around the inside of the pan, over and over and over. She hasn't heard a word Tobin has said, and when Alex nudges her gently, that pan goes crashing back into the sink for the second time that night.

"What?" Kelley spins around to look at Tobin, "Sorry, what?"

Tobin just shakes her head, and Alex tries not to read too much into Tobin's knowing grin. "I'm going to bed. Roomie surfing sesh in the morning? Waves are supposed to be good."

"Yep."  
"Yeah." They both answer quickly and over the top of each other. Alex bites at her lip. Totally casual.

"Wow. You guys are weird. I'll catch you in the morning."

Tobin heads for her bedroom and the kitchen is suddenly, overwhelmingly, quiet.

Kelley goes back to doing the dishes, and Alex knows that look on her face. The glazed over eyes, the way she chews at the inside of her lip, the occasional pause and deep breath. Kelley's working things out in her head. Alex wants to give her space.

"Kell, I'm gonna go to bed, too. I'll see you in the morning?"

There's a part of Alex, a large part, that wants Kelley to forget the dishes and kiss her again, or to at least talk about the kissing, but Kelley doesn't.

"Yeah, ok. I'll see you in the morning."

On her way out of the kitchen, Alex reaches over to squeeze Kelley's forearm, her gentle touch drawing Kelley's eyes towards her.

"Night, Kell."

"Goodnight, Alex."

* *

There are still wet marks on the back of Alex's shirt and she wonders if Tobin noticed, and what Tobin might have put together if she did notice. The shirt is cold against her skin, but she doesn't change out of it before she slips off her jeans and climbs into bed.

She's sober now, almost painfully so. There's a lot of staring up at the ceiling, her eyes tracing patterns in the shadows, because when she closes her eyes she's tracing patterns in the freckles that dust the tops of Kelley's shoulders and trickle down her arm in flecks of imperfect pigment. There's a cluster of freckles near her left elbow that Alex likes to press her finger to when she's teasing Kelley.

The water stops running in the kitchen and she wonders if Kelley is still standing at the sink, wrinkled hands from absent-mindeded soaking, still trying to process feelings and fears.

Then the door to Alex's bedroom creaks open, light from the hallway spilling in, backlighting Kelley as she pauses in the doorway.

"Al, are you awake?"

"Yeah."

The door closes with Kelley on the side that Alex wants. She pads softly across the carpet, and Alex is surprised when Kelley pulls back the blankets and climbs into the bed next to her.

They do this sometimes, share a bed. It started in London when they were roommates, both of them so exhausted from training they'd both collapse onto the bed that was closest to the door. They'd wake up hours later, muscles tight, Kelley's arm usually draped over some part of Alex's body to keep them both from falling off the bed. Now that they're roommates for real, Alex will sprawl across Kelley's bed while they watch Keeping Up With the Kardashian's in shameful secret, and wake up the next morning tucked under the blanket next to Kelley. 

They still pretend it's innocent.

Alex finds Kelley's hand on top of the blanket and she gives it a quick squeeze, a gentle reassurance that they'll be fine, but Kelley doesn't let go. Her other hand is fumbling around on the nightstand, and then the tv is turned on. There's an infomercial playing, some kind of miracle juicer. Kelley doesn't change the channel, just turns up the volume a few clicks.

Alex's heart starts to race.

It's needy and urgent the first time, a race to get out of clothes with shaking hands and hurried breath, the two of them learning as they go. Kelley's still half-dressed when they finish, her shirt pushed up under her chin.

The tv is still flickering in the background, but Alex can't hear anything over the sound of her pulse thumping rapidly in her ears.

Alex wants to say a million things, but she can't actually form any words. She looks over at Kelley, and watches the quick rise and fall of her chest, and the content look on her face when the tv flashes bright.

She wants to say a million things, but all she can manage is a silent gesture that she hopes will say enough. Alex presses Kelley's hand to the bare skin over her rapidly beating heart, letting the defender feel the effect she has had on her.

The second time is slower.

 

* * *

 

There's a month of sneaking around.

They take turns tiptoeing into each other's rooms almost every night, and then slipping out before the sun, and their roommate, rises. There are stolen glances, and teasing touches, Kelley kissing Alex in the car when they run errands together.

It's a thrill, the sneaking around, until it starts to feel like a lie.

Tobin's in New York for a week, so Kelley wakes up to the sun on her face and Alex's long frame curved around her side. The forward's face is pressed into the warmth of Kelley's neck; the slow, even breaths on her skin persuading Kelley to stay in this spot for as long as she can. Her fingers trace along Alex's forearm, mapping out the scars around her elbow, leftover from hard tackles on turf and training fields.

Eventually, Alex stirs, rolling away from Kelley and onto her back, and it's ok because Kelley needs coffee anyway.

She's antsy while the coffee brews, pacing the kitchen in bare feet, tugging at the pair of shorts she'd swiped from Alex's drawer as they hang a little lower on her hips than their original owner's.

Kelley knows why she's antsy. It's not a mystery as much as it's an attempt at denial. Kelley liked waking up next to Alex, and that scares her a little bit. She also knows that they're going to need to tell Tobin, and that scares her a little bit, too.

Her mind starts to wander just as the coffee finishes brewing. She fills the mugs too full and as she maneuvers back down the hallway the hot liquid splashes over the rims and onto the top of her bare feet.

She's cursing to herself when she makes it back to the bedroom, coffee still dripping down the sides of the mugs as she sets them on the nightstand. Alex is still sleeping, spread out across the bed like she tends to do, an arm draped across the spot vacated by Kelley.

Despite the hot liquid splashed on her feet, Kelley is cold standing at the foot of the bed in shorts and a t-shirt. When she climbs back into bed, she lifts Alex's arm and slips beneath it, letting the heavy weight across her shoulders try to tempt her back to sleep.

It takes a few minutes for the coffee to stir Alex awake.

There's a kiss pressed to the spot behind her ear, and then Alex is stretching the sleep from her muscles, her voice huskier with the morning when she turns toward Kelley. "This is different."

"What?"

"You still being here when I wake up," Alex says, rolling onto her side and wrapping a long leg around Kelley's lower half. "You're super cute early in the morning."

"You're just saying that because I made you coffee," but the compliment makes Kelley blush, and she tilts her head up to give Alex a quick kiss. For a brief moment Kelley wonders what it would be like to wake up like this every morning, then she pushes the thought away.

Alex moves to sit up against the headboard, gripping the cup of coffee like it's the last one on earth. It's the same way Alex holds onto every cup of coffee. Kelley moves up next to her and turns on the tv, flipping through the channels until she lands on CNN. 

It's a quiet morning for awhile. They catch up on the news, and then some Sportscenter, and Alex is on her third cup of coffee by the time they hit the Top 10 plays from the night before. Every time Alex leaves the bed for a refill, then climbs back in next to Kelley, it gets harder for Kelley to accept that they only get to play house like this for a few more days.

Alex clicks off the tv, tossing the remote towards the foot of the bed. "What do you want to do today? I was thinking we could hit they gym, get in a lift, then beach cruisers? I need to ride a beach cruiser, Kell."

"I think we need to tell Tobin about what we're doing."

There's a beat before Alex leans over to set her coffee cup on the nightstand. "What exactly do we tell Tobin that we're doing?"

Alex looks over at Kelley, her face suddenly serious and forgetting all about beach cruisers and the gym, and it's what Kelley really wanted all along, to be having this exact conversation.

"This thing that we're doing, is this casual to you? It's been five weeks, and this is the first conversation we're having about it."

"Kelley, I was with Servando for almost six years. I don't even know how to do casual."

"This is different though. I'm a girl, you're a girl. We're teammates and roommates. Have you ever slept with a teammate before?"

"No."

"Well," Kelley stutters. "Yeah, that's good to hear, actually."

"Kelley, it doesn't feel different to me because you're a girl, or because you're my teammate or my best friend. It doesn't feel different at all, that's my point. I kiss you because I want to kiss you, not because it's something I'm trying out. Being with you isn't some kind of experiment to me. The two of us together feels natural. After everything we've been through together, it feels inevitable."

Alex's words are simple, but they mean everything to Kelley. When she leans over to kiss Alex, it's like a promise written across both of their lips.

"You know that was my way of saying this isn't casual, right?" 

Kelley laughs against Alex's mouth, and she gets her wish when they waste the rest of the day in bed.

* * 

Tobin comes back from New York tanned and happy. Alex and Kelley are waiting for her in baggage claim, and they let the midfielder wander around the crowded space searching for them before they finally yell her name loudly and hold up their handmade sign, Tobin's name surrounded by painted hearts. Tobin tries to hide her enormous grin with a shake of her head, but Kelley runs up to hug her anyway.

"We missed you, Tobs."

They have dinner together, burgers at their favorite spot, and then a jet-lagged Tobin heads straight to bed when they get home. Alex and Kelley hang out on the couch for a while, watching tv and trying to keep their hands to themselves. With Tobin back they'd agreed to be hands off until they could tell her what was going on. Kelley is regretting that decision when Alex drags a teasing finger up her thigh.

"That's not fair," Kelley grunts, swatting Alex's hand away.

"That was an accident. Try to control yourself over there, O'Hara." Alex tosses the remote in Kelley's direction. "I'm going to bed. Alone. You'll probably miss me a lot"

"Doubtful. Now I won't have to worry about someone stealing the blankets and invading my side of the bed with their freakishly long legs."

"You'll miss me." Alex looks back towards the hallway, and then swings her head back and gives Kelley a quick kiss on the lips. "Night, Kell."

* *

Friday night roomie dinner happens over Kelley's homemade lasagna. Tobin has the first forkful halfway to her mouth when Alex meets eyes with Kelley and then clears her throat.

"Uh, Tobs, Kelley and I have something we want to tell you. We don't want it to change anything, but we know that it might and..."

"Is this about the two of you sneaking into each other's rooms every night?" Tobin doesn't look up from her lasagna, but Kelley knows she's grinning like an idiot because she's ten steps ahead of her nervous roommates.

"How did you know?" Kelley is genuinely surprised, and she wonders what her face looks like at this exact moment.

"You guys aren't really as quiet as you think you are. Especially Kelley."

Kelley can feel the fire rise and bloom across her cheeks and up to the tips of her ears. She buries her face in her hands, and through the spaces between her fingers she sees Alex trying not to laugh in slack-jawed amusement.

Tobin continues to eat her lasagna, smugly, but Kelley can't really be too sure. She still has her hands covering her face. Alex is the one who manages to gain her composure first.

"I'm sorry we didn't tell you sooner, Tobin. We were just taking our time figuring everything out. Are you ok with this?"

"Yeah, I'm cool with it. I've been expecting this to happen for a while, like since we got back from London. You guys are so weirdly flirty. I can't believe it took one of you this long to make a move. Pathetic, man." Tobin looks over at Kelley and laughs. "Dude, your face is still so red."

"Shut up."

"It's fine, Kell. Don't be embarrassed. I bought some ear plugs a week after you two started hooking up."

"Oh my god."


	2. Chapter 2

They get their call ups to camp three months after they start sleeping together.

It's not a surprise, getting called up. Not anymore. They're both established players, but Alex still gets a thrill out of seeing her name on that list alongside players like Abby and Hope.

She calls her dad, like she does after every camp roster is announced, and he's so proud. He calls her Ali Cat, and talk of soccer turns to talk of what's happening in her life, and she tells him nothing's new as she scans over Kelley's name on the roster.

* *

The night before they leave for training camp, they have that conversation they've been avoiding; what they should tell the team.

"I don't think we need to tell them."

Kelley's stretched out on her side of the still-made bed in Alex's room. It's Kelley's room too now, unofficially at least. Her clothes still fill the closet in the room across the hall, but she has a drawer in Alex's room that's filled with Stanford t-shirts and white socks that always start on Kelley's feet when they go to sleep but end up shoved into the bottom of the sheets or lost under the bed by morning. The tivo in their bedroom is filled with episodes of Glee and she's taken over the nightstand on her side of the bed. It's covered in paperback books she swears she's going to read, and that stuffed squirrel she refuses to admit is her metaphorical security blanket. When Alex bought new sheets, Kelley got final approval. There's a framed picture of them, Kelley's arm around Alex's neck, her nose pressed into the forward's cheek, on Alex's side of the bed.

This room is theirs.

"I just don't want to be a distraction during camp, for the team or for us. Qualifying is a big deal, and last time we came so close to missing it."

Alex is standing on the opposite side of the bed piling stacks of neatly folded clothes into a suitcase. She doesn't look up from her pile of sweats when she nods in agreement with Kelley.

"Al?" Kelley says softly, moving to sit cross-legged on the bed. She feels small like this.

"Yeah?"

When Alex looks up, Kelley can sense her distraction.

"You know that I'm not ashamed of us, right?"

"I know that."

"I've always managed to keep my private life private, and I know that being with you is something that's going to get out eventually, and it's going to be a big deal. I just want to be able to enjoy this thing being just ours for as long as we can."

"Kell, I'm ok with keeping this private. I think it's the best thing for right now."

"Then what's with the face?"

"I think I want to tell my parents about us."

There's a long pause, and Kelley has to say something to keep Alex from mistaking her silence for hesitation.

"You do?"

"Yeah, I do. Keeping it from the team is one thing, but keeping it from my family just feels weird. We've been together for three months. I talk to my dad once a week, and when he asks me how I am, or if I'm seeing anyone, your name is always on the tip of my tongue. I want to be able to tell him about you."

"How do you think your parents would take it?"

"I'm sure they'll be a little shocked at first, but they'd be supportive. As long as I'm happy, they're happy."

"I make you happy?" Kelley knows the answer to that question, but she asks it anyway.

"Duh." Alex flips the lid closed on her suitcase and fumbles with the zipper. Kelley loves shy Alex.

"I'll tell my parents too."

The smile Alex gives Kelley makes her heart flip, and then Kelley's crawling across the bed towards Alex until she hits the freshly packed suitcase. Her eyes meet Alex's and she bites the corner of her mouth before she cups her hands around her mouth and yells, "Tobin?" at the top of her lungs.

"She's not here," Alex grins.

Kelley shoves Alex's suitcase off the bed and the bag lands awkwardly on its corner on the floor, freshly folded clothes spilling into a pile around Alex's feet. Kelley has to slap her hand over her mouth to keep from laughing.

"I'm so sorry. I thought you zipped that up already. I was trying to be romantic or something. My bad. Seriously, my bad."

Alex shakes her head as she steps over the pile of clothes and climbs onto the bed, pressing Kelley's back into the mattress.

"You're repacking that when we're done."

* *

They barely see each other the first week of camp.

It's an endless cycle of fitness testing, weight room sessions, small-sided scrimmages, and full field scrimmages. The long days are broken up by lunch and a quick nap, and in the evenings, post-ice bath and dinner, the only thing Alex can manage to do is crawl into bed and sleep heavy.

Friday afternoon, after lunch and a nap, they split the team and scrimmage for the entirety of the last session. She's tossed a pinny, and when she looks across the field to see who she's up against, she catches Kelley, without a pinny, giving her a quick, sarcastic wave.

At times, Kelley's defending her so tightly that Alex is surprised no one has stopped the game to ask them if they're dating. It's the most physical contact they've had in days, and it doesn't feel like incidental touches on Kelley's end. When the ball is at Alex's feet, she can feel Kelley's fingers pressed into the small of her back, their legs tangling together as they fight for the ball. There's a quick moment of distraction, Kelley's hand slipping under Alex's shirt while they fight for possession, and Kelley pokes the ball away easily and the quick counter results in a goal from Press.

It ends up being the game-winner once Tom calls practice, and Alex is annoyed.

She can see Kelley out of the corner of her eye, beaming like an idiot for getting the best of her. Kelley jogs towards her and gives Alex a playful slap on the butt as she runs past, yelling "Nice try, baby horse!" over her shoulder. Alex kicks at the back of her boot which just makes Kelley laugh.

At dinner that night they sit at separate tables, Alex with Tobin and Megan, Kelley with the entire backline. She's in an intense conversation with Ali, her hands on the other defender's forearms, pulling her close, and Alex really wants to get her back for this afternoon.

Her fingers type out a text that she'd never otherwise write, and then she waits for the perfect moment to send it. Ali turns towards Becky at the same moment Kelley reaches for her water glass. It's timing so perfect Alex wants to pat herself on the back right there at the table. Kelley's swallowing a mouthful of water as she opens the text.

_I want to fuck you so bad right now._

Kelley's transformed into a choking, sputtering mess, Ali reaching over to slap her on the back like she's burping a baby. Everyone in the dining room turns around to stare at her, and then laugh, Abby yelling, "Jesus, Kelley!" from three tables over. Kelley flips everyone the bird, laughing behind her watering eyes.

Alex almost feels bad about it, until she remembers that Kelley started it, and then she just feels satisfied for a job well done.

The ping pong tournament starts up right after dinner, Tobin and Alex are up against Syd and Megan, and the trash talking has already started as they leave the dining room. Alex makes sure to pass behind Kelley on her way out.

"You ok there, Kell?" Alex says, reaching down to pat Kelley on the back a few times.

"Fine," Kelley says, clearing her throat. "Totally fine."

Alex's phone vibrates with a one word text from Kelley as she leaves the room.

_Asshole!_

* *

They get Sunday off, and Alex has a text from Kelley before she can even stretch the sleep from her limbs.

_Let's get out of here. We can explore._

The text that immediately follows make Alex laugh loud enough that Tobin stirs from the next bed over.

_That wasn't meant to sound dirty. Unless you wanted it to._

They eat breakfast with the team, and then manage to slip out together unnoticed, leaving at separate times just in case. There isn't much within walking distance of their hotel, and they end up at a sports bar tucked into the corner of a strip mall. The place is mostly empty, but Alex drags Kelley to a back corner with the only tv playing soccer. It's an Arsenal game, but Alex doesn't mind. She's just glad to have Kelley to herself for the first time in over a week.

Their time alone lasts ten minutes.

Kelley's telling a ridiculous story that can only come as a result of rooming with Sydney, when Alex looks up and notices the entire team trickling into the bar.

"Seriously?"

Kelley turns towards the door, and the rest of the team has already spotted them and they make their way towards their once private back corner.

"We cannot escape these people," Kelley mumbles, waving at the team like she doesn't want to hit every one of them.

Tobin's leading the group, and she grins at Alex and shrugs.

"Sorry dude, the guy at the front desk said this was the closest place showing the Arsenal game."

Abby's pushing tables together and the bar is suddenly at maximum volume with their twenty teammates crammed around one tv. Alex's phone dies, and she crosses her arms and sulks.

Four goals are scored in the first half alone, and their corner of the bar is filled with shouting and chairs scraping along the bar floor, Tobin standing up and throwing her arms into the air no matter which team scores.

There's less than ten minutes left in the half and Alex knows they need to sneak out before the whistle blows. She stares at Kelley from across the table, trying to will her to make eye contact, but Kelley is fully engrossed in the game, grabbing at the back of Tobin's shirt every time someone makes a run into the box. Alex gives her foot a quick kick under the table.

"Wrong foot, dude," Tobin says without looking away from the game.

Alex huffs and tries again, this time getting it right. Kelley looks over at her and Alex gives a nod towards the door, hoping Kelley figures out the signal the first time. Kelley does, and she's off the bar stool and heading towards the door before any of her teammates can even look her way. Alex is marveling at her stealthiness when Arsenal gets another breakaway and the team is too busy yelling to notice her slip out.

"Hey, hot stuff," Kelley smirks, leaning against the wall outside the bar, her hair knotted up in a bun the way Alex likes.

"Let's go back to the hotel. Like, right now. The whole team is in the bar. I counted. Twice."

The walk back to the hotel is brisk, Kelley struggling to keep up with Alex's long strides, eventually resorting to sort of jogging along behind her. They duck the coaching staff in the lobby, and when the elevator doors finally open onto their floor they're met with a rare sound. Total silence.

Alex and Tobin's room is at the end of the hall, and Kelley has her pressed against their door before Alex can find the room key. Kelley's fingers dig into her ribs, and she's surging up on her toes to kiss Alex hard and fast, making up for lost time.

Alex pulls away, taking Kelley's face in her soft hands.

"Kell?"

"Yeah?"

"The second half has already started, Tobin and the rest of the team are going to be back as soon as the game is over. Hurry. Up."

Kelley slides her hands into the back pocket of Alex's jeans in a painfully, deliberately slow search for the room key. Her fingers find the inside of the front pockets, the pace of Alex's breathing growing rapid against Kelley's skin. Kelley finds the key, and her slow tease turns on her when she's too impatient to wait for the light on the lock to turn green before she tries to shove open the door. After three unsuccessful attempts, and one frenzied shake of the door handle, Alex grabs Kelley's hand and forces her to wait. At the first sign of green Kelley swings the door open wide, and they both go stumbling inside, laughing into each other's skin.

* *

It's HAO who catches them, although they don't know it.

She'd stayed in the room to take a quick nap and woke three hours later to a quiet room on a quiet floor, a note from Megan on the nightstand that they'd all gone over to the pub across the street. She's still tired, and sore, and her stomach is growling at maximum volume. She needs the snack box in the trainer's room, and a really good stretch.

Heather's at the door when she hears laughter from the hall. It's a single laugh, maybe two people, not the thunderous herd that usually follows when the team is together. She's on her tip toes to look through the peep hole, and when she does she sees Kelley kissing Alex, the two of them stumbling into Alex and Tobin's room, the door slamming shut behind them.

"Holy crap," Heather has to slap her hand over her mouth to keep from laughing.

 

* * *

Qualifying is smooth sailing, until it isn't.

The handle the Dominican Republic and Guatemala with the same ease they always do. Haiti puts up a good fight, but the young team falls apart in the second half, and Alex and Abby dismantle the backline easily. Then Costa Rica hands them a tie that shocks everyone, and it feels like the worst kind of loss as they stumble into the semifinal match against Mexico.

There's a brief moment of panic for Alex, flashing back to Italy and aggregate goals and having to cling onto that last bit of hope that they'd limp into the last spot for Germany. She doesn't want to do that again, she won't do it again. A win against Mexico gets them a qualifying spot. They just need a win.

They jump to an early lead ten minutes in. It's a perfectly placed cross from Megan that Alex volleys with laser precision into the back of the net. Megan's leaping into her arms before the keeper finishes her dive.

It's the only goal of the first half, and in the locker room Sydney and Megan take bets on what position Alex's goal will be on Sportscenter's Top 10 list. Alex rolls her eyes at them, but she's laughing while she does it. The locker room is amped up, and when they step back out on that field they're ready to finish the game strong.

Mexico comes out just as ready.

The second half is a test for everyone. The midfield can't connect a pass, the front line gets shutdown by an endless cycle of miracle saves from the suddenly unbeatable Mexican keeper, and the back line gets hammered.

There's a break in play and Alex catches herself looking up at the game clock, something she never does, and there's a weird feeling with the realization that there's only ten minutes left. It suddenly doesn't seem like enough time.

There's a rush of movement in the midfield, a quick turnover, and Mexico's youngest forward is streaking up the right flank. Kelley keeps pace easily, pushing her out toward the sideline, but she over commits to a cutback and allows the forward to face up to goal. The shot she unleashes curves neatly into the upper corner, just out of reach of Hope's fingertips.

Alex can feel every last bit of air escape her lungs as she watches Mexico celebrate like they just won. Hands on her knees, she looks past the sea of green uniforms to find Kelley, and the look on her face wrecks Alex.

She's got her hands on her head staring over towards the bench like she's willing Tom to pull her off so she can punish herself. Alex watches Hope jog towards Kelley and say something in her ear, dropping her fists onto the defender's shoulders in a way that's always meant encouragement from the keeper. Kelley's jaw clenches tight, fingers curling into a fist so tight Alex knows there will be nail marks in her palm the rest of the night.

Abby's yelling at Alex to line up at midfield, but Alex takes a last look back at Kelley and finally meets eyes with her. Kelley gives her a nod that says she's ok, she's ready, and she's going to get this back for them.

The final minutes of the game are aggressive and inspired. Their passes connect effortlessly, runs are perfectly timed, and Kelley tears up and down the left flank like a woman possessed.

The fourth referee is on the sideline, her board announcing three minutes of stoppage time, when Tobin strips a midfielder of the ball. Alex can see the gap, the ball coming seconds later, perfectly slotted between two Mexican defenders. Alex beats them easily to the ball, but her angle is too wide, and her best option is to send in a cross. She takes a quick glance back and sees someone streaking towards the top of the box, completely alone.

She's tackled hard as the ball leaves her foot, crunched awkwardly between two defenders, and she watches from the ground as the ball finds Kelley at the eighteen.

It's hit perfectly, a knuckler that streaks towards the goal and then dips low into the corner. The keeper doesn't have a chance at it but she dives anyway, long after the ball is rippling the back of the net.

Alex is up and racing towards Kelley, the pile of defenders she leaves in her wake stay down, their faces pressed into the turf. The look on Kelley's face is pure bewilderment as she streaks towards Alex, her teammates trailing loudly behind. Kelley takes a flying leap into Alex's arms, legs wrapping around her waist as Alex stumbles backwards, the sudden crush of their teammates keeping them both from falling. Kelley's got her arms wrapped tightly around Alex's neck, and she's mumbling something into Alex's hair that she'll never be able to hear. Alex's heart feels like it might burst.

The rest of the team has already slipped away by the time Kelley has the earth beneath her feet again. Alex wraps an arm around Kelley's neck and pulls her close, pressing a playful kiss into the spot just above her ear, not really giving a damn how it might be interpreted.

They sprint back towards midfield together, the cheers from the crowd, the cheers for Kelley, still echoing in Alex's chest.

Kelley's player of the match, and the celebration on the field lasts a long time. Alex feels lighter somehow, knowing that they're a lock for the World Cup, their qualifying spot earned outright. They don't know who they'll face in the Gold Cup final, but to Alex it doesn't matter. No one can stop them now.

Abby tracks Alex down eventually, and the two forwards share a long embrace. They both know what this means, Abby's last shot at a World Cup title, and this time Alex is the one leading them there.

"We're gonna get it this time, Alex. I can feel it."

"Yeah, we are, because I won't stop until you're lifting that trophy over your head. We're bringing that back home. You and me and the rest of this team."

Abby puts her hand on the top of Alex's head, and there's a lot she seems to want to say, but she stops and swallows hard. Alex knows she'll wait until they win to say it all.

There's a chorus of screams and they both look over towards the sidelines where Kelley is headed towards a group of fans with a fresh sharpie and a huge grin.

"That was a hell of a first national team goal she just got." Abby says.

"Yeah, it was. I'm glad she got that goal back, she would have never forgiven herself for that giveaway otherwise."

"She'll have a couple thousand new twitter followers after they show that goal on Sportscenter tonight, that's for sure," Abby smiles.

"God, I'm just so damn proud of her."

Alex wonders if Abby caught that tone in her voice, the one that was less happy teammate and more proud girlfriend. Abby just looks over at her and smiles, but there's a flash of something knowing there that Alex isn't sure she actually caught.

"I'll see you guys on the bus."

Abby disappears into the tunnel, and it's just Alex and Kelley left on the field, save for a few cameramen packing up their equipment, and the occasional security guard milling around the field. Kelley signs the last few jerseys and homemade signs, and Alex hangs back, wanting Kelley to have her moment.

It hits her here, watching Kelley beam as a little girl in her jersey asks for a high five, how completely in love she is with this woman, and how badly she wants to tell her.

Kelley finishes signing and they slip into the tunnel together, alone in the space between the empty pitch and the noisy locker room.

Alex reaches for Kelley's hand, and they stop together in the quiet shadows.

"I want to tell you something, and I have to say it right now, because it hit me like a ton of bricks back there and I need you to know," Alex takes a deep breath, Kelley's eyes tracing wildly across her face. "Kelley, I am so in love with you."

Kelley looks up at her, and Alex can see the way her eyes glint even in the low light of the tunnel, her mouth hanging open with a big, stupid grin. She chokes out a soft laugh, and yeah, Alex is definitely in love with this woman.

A security guard shuffles past, oblivious to the two of them. Kelley watches over her shoulder until the older man passes by, then she rocks up onto her tiptoes to press a firm kiss to Alex's mouth, her fingers playing along the forward's hips.

It's fitting that this moment of admission happens yards away from the spot where they play the game they love so much. Everything Alex loves is wrapped up in her family, and this sport, and now Kelley takes residence in the space in between.

"I'm in love with you, too," Kelley says, so sincerely, and so sure.

* *

Three days later they win the Gold Cup. Kelley scores another goal.


	3. Chapter 3

Thanksgiving with the Morgan's is everything Kelley expected it to be, with slightly more blood.

Manhattan Beach to Diamond Bar takes less than forty five minutes, and after a month of qualifiers and hotel beds and sheets that aren't hers, Kelley just wants to stay local for Thanksgiving. She promises her mom that she'll be in Georgia for Christmas, Alex in tow.

It's a small gathering, just the Morgan girls and their boyfriends, Alex's mom and dad. It's not the first holiday she's spent with this family, but it's the first one like this, Alex's hand on her thigh under the table, a gentle squeeze when Alex laughs at her sister's jokes. 

The dinner table is loud and boisterous, everyone yelling over the top of each other, Alex's dad refilling everyone's wine glasses like it's his job. Her head feels light, and she laughs freely when Alex's mom tells stories about her daughter that make the forward blush. Kelley's arm is draped across the back of Alex's chair, her fingers playing on Alex's shoulder.

"So, Kelley, what made you finally fall for Ali Cat?" Jeri's sipping her wine, a playful smile hidden behind her glass.

Kelley looks over at Alex and grins widely, "Everything."

Alex leans over to kiss her, a quick but firm peck on the lips, and Kelley knows her cheeks are bright red while Jeri whistles a playful cat call. This is the most open they've been in front of anyone, minus Tobin, and it feels good, getting to share this love with the other people they love. She looks over at Alex's mom, because she just doesn't know, and the older woman is smiling. It's relief mixed with red wine, and Kelley feels warm all over. 

Alex's hand is still on her thigh, and Kelley reaches under the table to tangle their fingers together.

* *

There's a card game later, after the dishes have been cleared and another bottle of wine opened. It takes half a round to see where Alex got her competitive nature from, and it explains why Jeri and Jennifer's boyfriends sit on the couch on the other side of the room watching football. 

Alex gets accused of cheating almost immediately, and though Kelley doesn't say anything, she knows it's probably true. There's a lot of yelling, and a flung card or two, Alex rolling up her sleeves like she means business. Kelley takes the opportunity to duck into the kitchen, offering to help Alex's parents with the dishes, trying to be a good guest the way that her mom had always taught her.

"Kelley, guests don't do dishes over here, but thank you for the offer." Alex's dad is hand drying the dishes stacked on the drying rack with a careful precision, and it reminds Kelley of the way Alex likes to meticulously clean every inch of the apartment when she's stressed.

"I take it the girls are playing cards?" Off Kelley's nod, Alex's mom shakes her head, "Is anyone bleeding yet?"

Kelley laughs, "No, but there's still time."

"Kelley, Mike and I just wanted to tell you that we're so happy you and Alex are together. It surprised us a little when she told us, but we've always loved you, and Alex certainly loves you. You're good for her, and you make her really happy, and we're glad to have you as part of this crazy family now," Pam grabs hold of Kelley's wrist, swinging it lightly between them until she pulls Kelley in for a hug. 

Kelley can't say anything, she just squeezes a little tighter, Alex's dad giving her a paternal pat on the head before he goes back to drying.

There's a commotion from the living room and Alex and Jeri barge in, Alex taking a brief pause to smile at the sight of her mom and her girlfriend hugging in the middle of the kitchen, before she marches through the kitchen and into the laundry room, emerging with a basketball.

"Jeri cheated at Uno, so now we're going to play HORSE in the driveway to determine a winner. Kell, you want to come be the ref?"

"Really?" Alex gives her a look until Kelley relents. "Ok, yes. I would love to ref a basketball shoot around in your parents' driveway. It's just HORSE, right? You're not playing street ball and brawling or anything?"

"Yeah, just HORSE." Both Morgan girls agree too quickly.

* *

There's blood drawn in the first ten minutes of the most violent game of HORSE Kelley has ever seen. 

They throw elbows and pitch the ball at each other when they miss a basket. Someone calls someone else a cheater, but Kelley can't see who it is since she'd given up being the ref and laid in the grass at the outer edge of the driveway.

"It's best if you don't watch," Jeri's boyfriend had warned her before he'd fallen asleep in a lawn chair set up in the grass. "They'll make you take sides, and either way, one of them is pissed off at you."

From her spot on the lawn, Kelley hears the ball clang off the rim, a shuffle of feet, and then a thud that makes her wince. When she sits up she sees Alex grabbing at her mouth, a bright red smear across her bottom lip. She looks across the lawn at Kelley and raises her arms over her head, her mouth red with blood, and yells, "I won!"

Jeri's laughing at her, and then the two of them are hugging, the ball forgotten as it rolls down the driveway.

"You guys are so weird," Kelley says, rolling her eyes. She grabs Alex by the wrist and drags her inside, past Mike sitting in his armchair asking who won, and into the bathroom off the hall.

"Rinse your mouth out, dummy. I'll get you some ice."

Kelley comes back with a bag of frozen peas and another bottle of wine. Alex reaches for the wine first, but Kelley pulls it away. "You get the peas, the wine is for me."

Alex huffs while Kelley gingerly presses the bag of peas to her mouth.

"You know this is why no one on the team wants to play games with you, and why Monop Deal is banned in the apartment, right?"

"Actually I'm pretty sure Monop Deal is banned because of that time Tobin came home early and caught the aftermath of angry makeup sex after I beat you and you threw the deck of cards at me."

"Oh, yeah," Kelley grins, taking a pull from the wine bottle. "Poor Tobin. Now she knocks on every door in the apartment at least three times before she enters."

"See, you know you're just as competitive as me."

"Alex, honey, no one is as competitive as you. I have the scar to prove it." Kelley brushes her fingers over the scar above her left knee, a permanent reminder of Alex's competitiveness in training sessions. Sometimes when Alex gets too intense, Kelley brushes her fingers over the scar and Alex subconsciously relents.

"It's just that I don't think Tom would be all that stoked if his star player got injured playing street ball with her sister on Thanksgiving."

"You're my star player." Alex grins, dropping the bag of peas onto the bathroom counter to lean forward to graze the tip of her nose against Kelley's before grabbing the bottle of wine. 

"You're so dumb."

Alex tips the bottle of wine towards her lips, a smile turning up the corners or her mouth. She leans forward to kiss Kelley, and there's cabernet on her tongue, and a whimper in her throat when her swollen lip is met with Kelley's eager mouth.

"That fat lip's a little sore, huh? I'll be gentle tonight."

There's banging on the bathroom door, and Jeri's yelling through it at them, "Get out of there, pervs. It's time for dessert."

Kelley presses a kiss to the corner of Alex's mouth that isn't swollen.

"Did you want to race to the kitchen?"

"Shut up."

 

* * *

 

It's some time between Thanksgiving and Christmas that Alex is left home alone for a long weekend. 

Tobin's in New Jersey for the wedding of an old teammate, and Kelley takes a spur of the moment trip to San Francisco for a Stanford football game that she couldn't drag Alex to if she tried.

The quiet emptiness of the apartment gets to her on the first day. There's no one to force her to watch old episodes of Glee, no long board to trip over, no one to make her dinner. When she goes to sleep that first night she gets to take up the whole bed, and she hates it.

She wakes up before the sun rises the next morning, stretched out across Kelley's side of the bed. She wants to go back to sleep, act like Tobin for a day, cocooned up in the blankets in her room until noon, but she needs to stay busy.

There's an early morning beach cruising session, hitting her favorite coffee place along the boardwalk just as the rising sun starts to color the city. She's got three loads of laundry done before eight am, her clothes folded in neat piles stacked into a laundry basket, Kelley's folded clothes filling a separate basket that will go in a separate room. 

Doing the laundry usually centers her in a weird way that Kelley usually makes fun of her for, but now she's irritated by it. She leaves the baskets in the middle of the living room, and makes it out of the apartment in time for a long bike ride to bikram yoga.

Yoga does nothing to calm her down. She can't focus on her breathing, and she loses her balance on easy poses. They'd never really talked about Kelley moving all of her things into Alex's room, because it didn't matter then, but now it suddenly annoys Alex that their things are separate, that they still refer to it as 'Alex's room', and that Kelley once had the nerve to try and sneak that Stanford pennant into their bedroom. 

She's struggling through the balancing stick pose when she realizes that her dresser has more than enough space for Kelley's clothes, and with a little downsizing they can share the closet space easily. She breathes deeply through her nose, and finds her balance.

It takes a few hours of downsizing and endless trips of across the hall, Alex resisting the urge to arrange Kelley's clothes in order of color, but eventually her closet, their closet, is full. She takes a moment to admire her handiwork, Kelley's clothes mixed with hers in a way that signals something permanent and hopeful, and then she sets to work on the dresser drawers.

* *

Kelley comes home the following day, hours earlier than she was supposed to. Alex is in and out of a nap, her final attempt at a lazy day, when she hears Kelley come in the front door. 

"Al?" Kelley pokes her head into the bedroom, her travel bag slung over her shoulder. "Are you taking a Sunday afternoon siesta without me?"

"Being bored for three days has taken a lot out of me," Alex yawns, subconsciously rolling back onto her side of the bed. "How are you home already?"

"I moved up my flight. Thought maybe we could go to dinner tonight, catch a movie? A little date night, if you will, since I absolutely missed your face while I was gone."

"You should come take a nap with me first."

"Oh, I'm all about nap time. I'm gonna dump this crap in my room first."

Kelley's out the door before Alex can say anything. She listens to Kelley slide open the closet door, and then a dresser drawer, then another, and then another. Kelley shuffles across the hall and pokes her head back into the room.

"Alex, where are my clothes?"

Alex stretches a lazy arm across the bed, pointing towards the closet. 

"They're in our closet."

Kelley drops her suitcase near the foot of the bed, and slides open the closet door to find all of her clothes hanging neatly alongside Alex's. Kelley steps forward to touch her fingers to the hangers.

"Is that ok?" Alex asks softly, her face still half-buried in the pillow.

Kelley turns on her heel and climbs up into the bed in the empty spot beside Alex.

"Is it weird how romantic I find this laundry-related gesture?"

Alex smiles and shakes her head. Kelley brushes a strand of hair from Alex's face and leans in to press a tender kiss to her temple.

"Thank you for this."

Alex reaches out to pull Kelley down to lay beside her, the smaller woman fitting perfectly alongside the curve of her frame. Kelley's breath is on her neck, and their siesta is forgotten.

 

* * *

 

Christmas with the O'Hara's involves significantly less bloodshed.

Alex is nervous stepping off the plane when they finally touch down in Georgia. Kelley drags her through the airport by her arm like she's a stubborn child refusing to move her legs. There's no reason to be this nervous, not really. She's met Kelley's parents dozen of times before. They'd even spent a long weekend out in LA once, staying with the three girls in their apartment, Kelley's mom cooking dinner every night because she missed having a full house.

But it's different this time, because now she's sleeping with their daughter.

* *

Kelley's parents had taken the news well. Alex had been next to her on the couch when Kelley had made the call, Kelley's hand in hers. Kelley had taken a deep breath when her mom had answered, and the big speech she'd had planned dissolved quickly into a rushed, "Mom, Alex and I are dating."

There was a long pause on Kelley's end, and then she looked over at Alex, a big toothy grin crinkling the corners of her eyes, "Yes, that Alex."

Whatever else was said between the two women went well, the death grip Kelley had on Alex's hand loosened over the course of the phone call. Kelley laughed into the receiver, and Alex was happy for her.

"Yeah, she's here. She's sitting right next to me," Kelley looked over at Alex and gave her a shrug. "Ok, yes, I'll talk to her about it. No, not right now. Mom, that's like four months away. No, mom. Alright, I'll ask her."

Kelley pulled the phone away from her ear and covered the receiver, "Even though it is more than four months away, my mom wants to invite you to Christmas in Georgia as you are currently a member of the O'Hara family. Don't feel obligated or anything."

Alex had been taken aback by the gesture, at how quickly Kelley's mom had accepted the news and Alex's new role in her daughter's life. It reminded her of her own mom's reaction, understanding and brimming with love.

Alex had accepted the invitation without a second thought.

* *

"There they are!" Kelley's on her tiptoes peering over the heads of a swarm of holiday travelers. She grabs Alex by the hand and pulls her through the crowd toward baggage claim.

Kelley drops her carry-on bag at her feet and practically launches herself at her parents. She hasn't been home in months and Alex knows it's weighed on her.

Kelley's mom hugs her tight, running her hands over Kelley's hair, marveling at how long it's gotten. They stay frozen together like this for a long time, alone together in a crowded airport. Alex watches from a distance, until Kelley's dad notices her standing alone and he immediately envelops her in a warm embrace.

"We're glad to have you here, Alex. Kelley's never brought anyone home for Christmas before, so this is kind of a big deal for us."

It surprises Alex that Kelley never mentioned this, that she is the first person Kelley had ever brought home for Christmas. She knows there were boyfriends in college, one she'd dated for over a year, so it feels like a personal victory that she made the cut after five months.

Kelley's mom is classic grace, strong and slender like her daughter. with eyes so warm that Alex reaches out to hug her first. She smells lightly of perfume, and her arms wrap tightly around Alex in the same way she'd hugged her own daughter. Whatever nerves remained vanish when Kelley's mom says, "Alex, we're so happy you're here."

Kelley's brother and sister are waiting for them when they make it back to the house. Alex has met them both a handful of times, but Kelley and her sister look so much alike it forces Alex to make a double take. They're warm and friendly, and when the three siblings get going, loud. Jerry gets immense joy in picking his much smaller sister up off the ground, Kelley laughing hysterically every time.

They eat lunch together, Erin peppering Alex with questions about life in California, and her life with Kelley, while Kelley and Jerry antagonize each other on the opposite end of the table. They're protective older sibling questions, and Alex answers them honestly until Erin shakes her head and apologizes for giving her the third degree.

"I just miss her, you know? I like knowing that she's good."

"I know you do. I promise she's in good hands though, Erin. I love her, a lot."

The gentle admission makes Erin smile, and she reaches over to squeeze Alex's hand.

"I know you do, Alex. It's hard to miss."

* *

Alex had caught the slight blush on Karen O'Hara's face when she'd told Kelley that she hadn't made up the guest room for Alex, that they were both adults, respectful, mature adults, who could behave themselves in the same room for the weekend. Then she'd shooed them away to get settled.

When Kelley swings open the door to her old bedroom, Alex feels like she's meeting teenage Kelley O'Hara for the first time.

"Welcome to my parents' shrine," Kelley laughs. Alex drops their bags onto the neatly made double bed and takes it all in. There's a Stanford pennant hanging over her desk, the same one she keeps on the back of her door back home, and a poster of Julie Foudy above her headboard, the colors faded and the edges curling around the thumbtacks. The shelf above her desk is cluttered with trophies and medals, mostly soccer related, but the biggest trophy proudly declares her win at the middle school science fair.

"My mom and dad never moved my stuff out. I think because I was gone so much, with the youth national teams and then moving across the country for college. I'm the one kid they only get to see few weeks out of the year, hence the shrine."

"I think it's cute," Alex says, crossing the room the examine the rest of her things.

The bookshelf is full of paperbacks and framed pictures and little souvenirs from the places around the world she's traveled to play soccer. In the corner of the very top shelf is the silver medal from the World Cup, the blue strap wrapped around the medal like it was accidentally misplaced in this spot, not displayed on purpose. Alex keeps her medal in the back of her closet, balled up and shoved into a sock because she can't bear the reminder. 

Kelley's medal rests in front of a picture Alex had forgotten about. It's the two of them and Tobin in their training gear, the mountains of Austria in the background. They're laughing and flexing their biceps, Kelley and Alex grinning right at each other, like they'd forgotten about everyone else.

Alex tries to remember if she had felt it then.

* *

There's a houseful of people on Christmas Eve, relatives and family friends and plenty of alcohol. Erin leads Alex around, introducing her as Kelley's best friend to a horde of cousins because it's still just theirs for now.

Alex spots Kelley across the room in a dark green dress that makes her skin glow warm. She's talking to a graceful older woman in a quiet corner, and when Kelley catches Alex staring at her she smiles and waves her over.

Alex crosses the room, feeling nervous until she reaches Kelley who grabs her hand and pulls her close into her side. There's a long reassuring squeeze of her hand.

"Alex, this is my grandma. Grandma, this is Alex. My girlfriend." The last sentence comes out without the slightest hint of waver in her voice. 

"It's lovely to meet you, Alex," Kelley's grandma takes Alex's hand in both of hers, and without missing a beat turns to Kelley. "Now, Kelley, when did you start liking girls?"

Alex can't help but laugh, the older woman so nonchalant about her granddaughter's reveal. Alex looks over at Kelley and notices a faint blush across her cheeks.

"Well, I don't like all girls. I just happen to like this girl. Does that make sense?"

"I suppose it does. As long as it makes sense to you, honey."

It's the most honest and profound thing anyone has said about their relationship, and it makes Alex feel lighter.

"I can see why you fell for this one," Kelley's grandma says, still holding tight to Alex's hand. "She's quite the looker. Now Alex, are you Catholic?"

"Uh, no ma'am."

"Well that's alright. I always wanted Kelley to marry a nice Catholic boy, but there's still time to convert you. Marrying a nice Catholic girl would be fine too."

"Ok, that's enough wine, I think," Kelley steps forward and takes the half-empty glass of wine from beside the older woman. "It's only been six months, grandma. We aren't getting married, and Alex is not converting to Catholicism. I'm just going to take Alex far away from your crazy talk now."

Kelley leans down to kiss her grandma on the cheek, prying Alex's hand from the older woman's at the same time. Alex gets immense pleasure watching Kelley get rattled by her grandma's mostly innocent suggestion.

"Your grandma loves me." Alex purrs into Kelley's ear as they make their way through the crowded living room.

"You tend to have that effect on people." Kelley's got her hand in Alex's, and she's pulling her towards the front door, grabbing their coats on the way out the door. "I want to take you somewhere."

They're on a golf cart in the dead of night, winding over a path that cuts through a forest of dark trees and past man-made water hazards on the golf course that catch the moonlight on the surface, Kelley telling Alex that the place they're going is her favorite memory as a kid on Christmas.

They end up at a small Catholic church just in time for midnight mass, the two of them taking up residence in an empty pew in the back row. Alex can tell instantly why Kelley loves this place on this day. The small church is lit up with endless rows or candles, and the air is thick with the scent of incense and smoke curling off the small flames. It's soft and romantic and everything Christmas should be, and she knows with absolute certainty that she's the only person Kelley has ever shared this with.

She reaches down to take Kelley's hand, lacing their fingers together and tucking their hands between them on the worn, wooden pew. The small choir sings 'Silent Night' and Alex feels overwhelmed in the best possible way.

* *

That night, squeezed into Kelley's old double bed, sleep on the cusp of taking over, Alex rolls over to face her, wrapping an arm around the defender's shoulders to pull her closer.

"How come I'm the first person you've ever brought home for Christmas?"

"How'd you know that?"

"Your dad mentioned it at the airport."

"I don't know, I guess I don't get to see my family a lot, and when I do my time with them is like, sacred. I've never really wanted to share them before. Until you, at least."

There's a softness to this night. Words feel more important, actions mean more. Alex rolls tighter into Kelley, finding warmth in a place she'd never imagined, with this woman, in this home. Her hand traces up Kelley's arm, playing over her wrist and across her elbow, until her fingers come to rest on the warm skin of Kelley's neck.

"It's weird to think that I ever loved anyone before you."

Kelley's alway had this way with words, simple and to the point, and utterly unaware of the earth-shattering effect they sometimes have on Alex. 

Alex springs forward, pressing a firm kiss to Kelley's lips, her hands splayed across Kelley's cheeks and tangled in her hair. She kisses her until the breath is pulled from both of their lungs.

"Hey, you heard what my mom said," Kelley smirks, her words coming out in short, breathless bursts against Alex's cheeks. "Don't be getting fresh with me."

Alex smiles, and kisses her again.

* *

Two days later while she's packing her suitcase for their flight back to LA, Alex pulls the picture of the two of them from Kelley's bookshelf, the one with the both of them absolutely clueless about what they would eventually feel, and she packs it carefully between a pile of sweaters.


	4. Chapter 4

There's a friendly against Canada in late January that's anything but, and they still haven't told the team.

It's ten minutes into the start of the second half when Alex takes a Melissa Tancredi elbow to the side of her head and crumbles to the ground in an awkward heap. Kelley's off and sprinting across the field, her eyes focused on Alex's unmoving form the whole way. 

Alex had been the target all night, taking brutal hits that left her slower to her feet with every cheap shot that sent her crashing to the field. Tom had suggested at halftime that she sit, but she insisted on finishing, knowing that half the crowd in the sold out Home Depot Center was her family and friends.

Tancredi's leaning over Alex, Syd crouched down next to her with a hand on her shoulder by the time Kelley reaches them. The referee is already motioning for the trainer, and Kelley shoves Tancredi away, sending her stumbling towards the ref who shows her a yellow card that should be a red.

"Al?" Kelley's on her knees in from of Alex, gently shaking her by the shoulder, and it feels like way too much time has passed before she feels Alex start to stir beneath her hand.

"I'm ok," she says slowly, her voice a strained whisper, but the stadium is so quiet everyone else might have heard it.

Alex touches her hand to her temple and there's blood on her fingers, "Oh. Shit."

Someone's pulling Kelley away as the medical staff reaches Alex, and she'd recognize that tanned arm anywhere.

"Come on. She's gonna be ok."

"Did you see the way she fell? She was out cold when she hit the ground, Tobin. That elbow was intentional, they've been coming after her all game."

"I know that look. Play smart."

"Nah, I'm gonna wreck her." Kelley stares across the field at Tancredi who's on the sidelines sipping water and laughing with her teammates.

There's a wave of applause and Kelley looks behind her to see that Alex is on her feet and being helped across the field, her weight supported by a trainer under each arm, one of them pressing a mess of gauze to the gash along her eyebrow.

Kelley steps into their path, and reaches out to touch Alex, her fingers just brushing the edge of her jersey.

"I'm ok," but Alex's eyes don't focus on her, they bounce around Kelley's face and across the stadium before she finally just squeezes them shut and lets the trainers lead her.

They bypass the bench and head straight for the locker room, and Kelley can't shake the way that Alex looked, scared and rattled on the spot she usually owns with such fierce steadiness. 

The rest of the team seems to seek revenge for the cheap shot on Alex as desperately as Kelley does. There's a crunching tackle from Tobin, Sydney picks up a yellow card, and a shoulder bump from Cheney that sends Tancredi crashing hard to the pitch. Tancredi stays on the ground, the wind knocked out of her by the way she grabs at her sides. 

Kelley takes advantage of the break in play to head to the bench in search of water and an update. Abby is there to deliver both.

"They took Alex to the hospital. They think it's a pretty nasty concussion, plus she lost consciousness for a few minutes, so they want to get her evaluated just to be safe. That eyebrow might need some stitches too." 

Kelley forgets about the water bottle hanging lamely from her hand.

"You just need to get through the last part of this game. Preserve the shutout, protect the win, and don't get tossed over a revenge foul on Tancredi. Let everyone else handle that."

"Why?" Kelley doesn't often question her captain, and she instantly feels bad for doing it now.

"Because your relationship with Alex off the field can't affect the way you play on it. It's part of dating a teammate."

Kelley doesn't have a chance to question her about how long she's known, or how she knows, because the whistle blows across the field and she still has to get through thirty minutes of this endless game. Abby grabs the water from her hand and nudges her gently towards the field. 

"Finish the game and I'll have a ride to the hospital waiting for us as soon as that whistle blows."

They're up by two already thanks to Alex, and Sydney puts two more away almost immediately. Kelley does her best to block out Alex, and Abby, and anything else that don't involve protecting her end of the field. She's bulldozed by Sinclair along the touchline, and it finally snaps her awake. She knows they'll get this win, but she refuses to let this team score even one on her. There's a clean but vicious tackle on Sinclair courtesy of Kelley just outside the 18, Hope caught too far off her line, and it frustrates the Canadian as she slams her hands down onto the pitch while Ali clears it effortlessly. Canada gets a corner in the last minute of stoppage time, and the ball is sent curving in towards the goal, but Kelley's on the near post and that goal isn't going in either. A clean sheet for Hope, and as much satisfaction as she can muster for Kelley.

When the final whistle blows Kelley heads straight for the tunnel, waving absentmindedly to the cluster of young girls yelling her name above her, while Abby trails closely behind.

The van ride to the hospital is largely silent, and Kelley's relieved. Alex's parents are waiting for her when she slips through the sliding glass doors of the emergency room. Pam looks at Abby, and then at Kelley, unsure of what she can say.

"It's ok, Abby knows."

Pam nods, then reaches out to squeeze Abby's hand. That's when Kelley realizes that the bond Abby and Alex have formed has extended to all aspects of Alex's life, including her family. Kelley wants to reach over and squeeze Abby around her waist, for loving Alex in an entirely different way than she does, but for loving her all the same.

"Alex is ok," Pam says finally. "She got a few stitches to close the cut above her eye, and she's back right now getting a CT scan just to make sure everything is ok. The doctor is pretty sure it's a concussion. We saw her before she went back and she's doing fine, just a little rattled."

Kelley exhales slowly and looks down at her feet. She's still in her uniform, and her cleats are leaving a trail of dried mud and grass clippings on the faded linoleum of the hospital floor. She feels bad for making a mess.

Her and Abby set up camp in the quietest corner of the waiting room to wait on Alex's test results and the chance to see her. Kelley takes a long time to unlace her cleats and slip them off to avoid making any more of a mess. Abby stays silent, and Kelley knows she's waiting for the young defender to speak first.

"So how long have you known?"

"Since the camp before qualifiers in October."

"You've known for three months? And you've never said anything? Who else knows?"

"Oh, the entire team knows. Just the team, no staff."

"The whole team has known for months and no one's said anything? This team? Pinoe found my winter formal pictures from sophomore year on the internet and printed out a hundred copies and taped them all along the hotel hallway, and they decided to keep quiet about this?"

"We figured you guys were trying to keep it private for a reason. We wanted to respect that."

"Oh," Kelley says softly. There are times when she forgets that this team is more than just a goofy family full of practical jokers and merciless teasing. This is her family, their family, and they are loyal and protective and unrelentingly good. 

"It's not that we were ashamed of it, or that we thought the team wouldn't respect it. We just didn't want to be a distraction, especially in the beginning. Neither one of us knew exactly where it was going, and we didn't want to put the team in the middle of it, especially if it all imploded horribly before it really got off the ground."

"So as your captain I can totally ask you this for the sake of the team, but also because I'm just nosy in general. How serious is this?"

"It's serious," Kelley says, unable to control the grin that curves her lips. "I don't think either one of us expected to feel this way for each other, but I don't know, I accidentally fell for my best friend, and that's pretty cool."

"You love her," Abby smiles, a soft teasing tone in her voice. 

"Yeah, I do."

Abby pats her on the knee and Kelley is grateful for the reassurance from the person Alex admires the most. 

* *

Alex is sitting on the edge of a hospital bed, her bare feet dangling beneath her, when Kelley finally gets to go back to see her. 

"Hey," she says softly, pulling the curtain closed around Alex's bed, a failed attempt to shut out the noise of the emergency room that fills the space around them.

"Hey," Alex smiles back, wide and sure, the fogginess that had scared Kelley earlier now gone.

"How's the head?" Kelley climbs up onto the bed next to Alex, her own shoeless feet dangling over the edge, her cleats forgotten in the waiting room with Abby. She taps at the back of Alex's foot with the toe of her sock, noting the chipped black polish on Alex's toes and the perfect cleat mark that's already forming along the top of her foot, the stud pattern most likely a perfect match to Melissa Tancredi's boot

"Head's fine. The doctor said it was a mild concussion. It sounds worse than it is. I can't train or anything for at least a week so that's annoying. This hurts more than anything," Alex motions towards the purple area just below the end of her eyebrow, at the gash that's held together with delicate stitches of black thread.

"You'll have a nice scar," Kelley says, the tips of her fingers on Alex's chin, tilting her face so she can get a better look, then motions to her own scar above her eye. "We can match."

"How'd the rest of the game go? Did we win?"

"We won. Syd scored a couple in your honor. And Cheney demolished Tancredi, also in your honor. I wanted a shot at her, but Abby talked me down."

"Typical captain."

"She said the two of us can't let our off the field relationship affect what happens on the field."

Alex nods absent-mindedly, and then she processes Kelley's words and her head shoots straight up. "What?"

"They all know about us. HAO caught us during the camp before qualifiers."

"She caught us doing what?" Alex asks, biting at her lower lip, trying to remember any times they weren't careful.

"Kissing in the hallway, apparently."

"Huh. So they all knew this whole time and they never said anything? I don't believe it."

"That's what I said. But it's true."

"Ok," Alex says, her hand finding a spot on Kelley's thigh, fingers pressing softly into her skin. "So should we tell them officially?"

"Probably. Later." Kelley drops her head onto Alex's shoulder, changing the subject because she can only process so much in one night. 

"You scared me out there today, all knocked out and confused. Bleeding all over yourself. That was not cool."

"Sorry."

"You're forgiven," Kelley mumbles. "Just don't do it again. Promise."

"Oh I'm way too superstitious to make that promise. There isn't a single piece of wood around here for me to knock on."

"You want me to go searching for some tongue depressors or something?"

"Fine, I promise." Kelley presses a kiss to her shoulder. Alex waits a beat, and then, "I hope you weren't joking about finding those tongue depressors."

* *

They tell the team the next morning, over breakfast in the hotel dining room, Abby requesting privacy from the staff because she can.

Kelley and Alex sit next to each other, picking at the eggs growing cold on their plate. There's normal conversation happening at the table around them. Sydney hasn't looked up from her phone since she sat down, and Megan's taking pictures of Alex's swollen eye, remarking with awe at how nasty it looks.

Eventually the dining room grows quiet, as if the rest of the team is waiting for them to just say it already so they can carry on with breakfast and packing.

So Kelley stands up, and just says it. That she's with Alex, and that they know that the team knows, and how much they both appreciate the respect the team has shown them.

The team is quiet, respectful, Sydney even putting down her phone to stare at them with a smirk, until Megan looks across the table at them and gives them a boisterous thumbs up then mouths, "Get it, Baby Horse."

 

* * *

 

There's one last break before Algarve, and training camps, and the absolute insanity that is the lead up to the World Cup.

They've got two weeks off in LA, and Sydney never really leaves town after the Canada friendly, passing from friend's house to friend's house until she ends up at their doorstep, a large suitcase being dragged behind her.

"What's up, roomies? I'm crashing here for awhile." She's already parked her suitcase in the middle of their living room before she finishes the sentence.

"Dude, don't you have a home?" Tobin emerges from the hallway, a wetsuit slung over her arm. 

"Yes, but it's empty and I'm bored. I need someone to entertain me." 

"You want to learn how to surf?"

Sydney looks over at Tobin and scoffs, "Absolutely not."

Tobin rolls her eyes and swats at Sydney with the end of her wetsuit before she disappears out the front door.

Sydney looks at Alex and Kelley, and smirks a grin that Alex knows isn't a good thing. 

"So, do you guys like do it everywhere when she's gone?"

"You're gross," Alex grunts, crossing her arms across her chest and reaching out to kick Sydney's suitcase over with the toe of her shoe.

"All the magic is contained in the bedroom, thank you very much," Kelley reaches over to smack the pillow out of Sydney's hand for good measure. 

Sydney steps over her mess of stuff in the middle of the living room and spreads out across the couch, "What time's dinner? I'm starving."

"Jesus, you're already the worst roommate ever."

* *

They get drunk, like really drunk, a week into Sydney's stay with them. 

A spontaneous movie night sends Sydney and Kelley to the store for snacks and popcorn, and they come back an hour later with three bags of gummy bears and a handle of tequila.

It starts innocently enough. Strong margaritas courtesy of Sydney's heavy pour, and the four of them yelling their favorite lines from Stepbrothers over the top of each other. Eventually the movie gets paused for refills, and then it gets forgotten when Sydney and Kelley challenge each other to a game of quarters. Alex puts up a half-hearted protest and then joins in, Tobin pulls herself up onto the counter to watch with amusement from a safe distance.

The game of quarters turns quickly into drunken hallway soccer, Kelley acting as goalie and laughing hysterically every time Sydney and Alex drill a ball at her in a sloppy version of penalty kicks. They break a picture frame and leave a dent in the ceiling before Alex scores the winning goal, the ball crashing through Tobin's open bedroom door.

Kelley jumps on Alex's back and they do a wobbly victory lap around the coffee table before Alex gets the spins and they fall onto the couch together. Kelley's pinned under Alex, laughing easily and uncontrollably like usual, but even more now that she's drunk. 

"You let her win!" Sydney slurs, pointing in the general vicinity of Kelley.

"Duh." There's a long pause, and a pathetic attempt by Kelley not to laugh before she finally spits out the rest. "I always let Alex score on me."

The three of them laugh loudly, stirring Tobin who has fallen asleep in the tight space between the coffee table and the couch after no more than two shots of tequila. Kelley's grabbing at her sides when Sydney suddenly gets very serious.

"You guys," she says, standing up in the middle of the living room. "You guys, shut up. I have to say something. Shut up."

Kelley and Alex swallow the last bit of laugher, their chests heaving, and eyes watering. They turn to face Sydney in a tangled heap of legs and arms, Kelley's head hanging upside down off the edge of the couch.

"Guys," she says slowly, like what she's about to say might just change their lives. She holds an empty shot glass over her head, toasting everyone with nothing at all. 

"Let's win the fucking World Cup."

Kelley and Alex nod silently, like it's the deepest thing anyone has ever said, and then Tobin's fist shoots up from the space between the couch and the coffee table.

"Dude, heck yes!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I mean, they'll eventually play in the World Cup. I swear.


	5. Chapter 5

Kelley's knee bounces on the entire flight to Canada.

She's the opposite of calm in the weeks leading up to the start of the World Cup. She's frenetic energy and rambling words, her laughter coming too easily and too loudly during warmups in training camp, and after team dinners she takes to prowling the hotel hallway with Sydney, popping their heads into open rooms in search of unwitting victims to their series of escalating pranks.

Alex's nerves simmer quietly, dangerously, beneath the surface.

She's the face of the team now, as officially as an unofficial title can be. The weight of all of it, the team, their sport, feels heavy on her shoulders.

Abby spends the month leading up to the tournament schooling Alex in their own version of media training. She's perfected the art of the non-answer, the humble answer, and the safe answer, but none of her training with Abby prepares her for the first day of media in Canada, when a stream of reporters all ask her the same question.

Why hasn't the United States won a World Cup in fifteen years?

She wants to roll her eyes, or maybe feel relieved they aren't asking about painted on swimsuits anymore, but instead she grits her teeth and answers diplomatically about hard work and the level of progress made in programs around the world, just the way Abby taught her.

And when they ask her if this is the team that will finally end the drought, she answers semi-honestly that this is the best squad they've had since 1999, and they're confident and ready to play. When she thanks the reporters with a forced smile and unclips the microphone from her shirt, all she can think about is how wrong it all went in Germany.

She rides the elevator back to her floor alone, leaving the PR team to catch the next one so she can pace the small confines of the cube without anyone seeing that this is starting to get to her already, three days out from their first group match against Colombia. 

Kelley's in her room when she gets back, already half-asleep under the blankets. All Alex wants to do is sleep, but they've been in separate rooms for three weeks and their time alone has been scarce. Kelley pulls the blanket back in silent invitation and Alex doesn't hesitate to toe off her shoes and climb in next to her.

When she stretches out along Kelley's side and tucks her head under Kelley's chin, Alex hopes that her girlfriend will take it as a sign that she just wants to have a quiet night and watch a movie. If Kelley gets the hint, she chooses to ignore it.

She carries on a one-sided conversation for the first twenty minutes of a movie that Alex doesn't even remember agreeing to watch. The words come at a rapid fire pace, and Alex doesn't bother trying to keep up, which only makes things worse because it's all a bunch of nonsensical word vomit that she can't seem to block out. Kelley laughs at something, her own nerves making her laughter too loud, poking at Alex's ribs too hard.

That's when Alex snaps.

"Kelley!" She shouts, louder than she means to, sitting up to face the object of her frustration. "I love you, but can I just get like, two fucking minutes of quiet? Please? Jesus."

They've never talked to each other like this before, and Alex instantly regrets it when she sees the way Kelley's face falls.

Kelley climbs out of the bed and stalks across the room, turning on her heel just as she hits the door. Her hurt gives way to her Irish temper, and she comes storming back at Alex. Then just as quickly as her anger came, it fades away.

"I get that you're nervous, Alex, and that you're under a lot more pressure than all of us realize, but you don't get to take it out on me. I'm going back to my room. Enjoy your peace and quiet."

Kelley's words aren't angry, they're tired and defeated, and Alex wants nothing more than to take it all back. Instead she lets Kelley walk out, the door clicking shut harshly behind her.

Alex falls back onto the pillows that still smell like Kelley 

"Fuck."

 

* *

 

There's ten minutes of staring at the ceiling, trying to work up the nerve to go apologize, before Alex's stubbornness wins out and she ends up at Abby's door instead.

When she swings open the door, Abby gives Alex a once-over before yelling back to Ali that she's going for a walk.

"You look like shit."  

It's enough to coax a grin out of Alex.

"Thanks." 

They barely make it to the end of the hallway before Abby's pried it all out of her. The pressure, the interviews, the never-ending reminders of their World Cup shortcomings, and how it's all slowly getting to her. 

"Then I snapped and yelled at Kelley." 

"And you lived to tell about it?"

"I only lived so she could make me feel bad about it all night. And it's working. I mean, we fight about stuff, but this was me yelling at her just because she was being Kelley." 

"Alex, I'm going to give you some advice I should have given you earlier, ok? Fuck the media. I know it's technically a part of our job, but if it's getting to you, leave it there. Answer their questions, and then forget it all as soon as you walk out of that room. You're here to play soccer for your team and for your country, forget everything else. If you don't, it'll start to drive you crazy and then you'll end up doing something awful, like yelling at little Kelley O'Hara."

"I do feel really bad about that."

"I know you do," Abby grins, dropping her hand onto the top of Alex's head. "Go apologize. We've got a game in three days and we need everyone's head clear, because Alex?" 

"Yeah?" 

"We're going to win this thing."

 

* *

 

Tobin's shaking her head and trying poorly to hide the grin on her face when she opens the door to her and Kelley's room.

"Dude, you're in so much trouble."

 "Can you give us ten minutes? Please?" 

"Fine. Just don't do anything gross on my bed."

Tobin darts out of the room before Alex's foot can hit her in the butt. 

Kelley's stretched out across her bed with the tv remote in her hand, because she refuses to let go of it even when she has no intention of changing the channel. She looks over at Alex but doesn't say anything. Alex thinks she'd rather deal with the temper. 

She clicks off the tv on her way across the room before settling on the corner of Kelley's bed.

"I'm sorry." It comes out softer than she intended, but Alex has never been great at apologizing.

"What was that? I could barely hear you." Kelley leans forward, cupping her hand around an ear for good measure.

"I'm sorry. I was an asshole, and I deserved to be called out for it. I am really, really sorry for yelling at you," Alex says, a little more emphatically this time around. 

Kelley takes her time considering the words, long enough that Alex thinks about taking them back because she doesn't just apologize to anyone, and then Kelley breaks out into that stupid grin.

"How hard was that apology?" 

"Shut up."

Kelley reaches forward to grab a handful of Alex's shirt and pulls her down to lay next to her. 

"You're forgiven." 

Kelley has her hand loosely in Alex's, and it's reassuring for her to have a moment like this. For a minute Alex is back home, in their room, with something soft playing on that hipster record player Kelley loves so much. 

She forgets everything except the warmth of Kelley's skin.

 

* * 

 

They make it through the group stage almost effortlessly. 

Three games, three clean sheets, and Alex is already leading the race for the Golden Boot. The team is confident, prepared, and so perfectly in sync that Alex sometimes catches herself marveling at their play. This is the soccer she's always dreamed of playing, and when reporters start to talk about the American team playing beautiful soccer, she knows this team is special.

 

* *

 

They get Canada in the quarterfinals, and Alex is positive she's never played in front of a more hostile crowd. There's extra security for Sydney, and chants about her father during warmups. Alex has never seen such anger directed towards their team as they jog off the field and into the tunnel, beneath an angry mob of Canadian flags and extended middle fingers.

She curls up inside her locker, headphones over her ears, tight and loud to drown out the noise from the field that she can't clear out of her head.

A text from Kelley interrupts her music, and it makes her smile.

_No concussions tonight, cool?_

She looks across the room and sees Kelley in front of her own locker, both knees bouncing in a sporadic rhythm that betrays her nerves. The headphones over her ears are no doubt blasting the same song over and over.

_A promise is a promise. Promise me something though. Nobody scores on us today, and we win for Syd._

_Deal. For Syd._

 

_* *_

 

It's a chorus of boos and questionable chants for the first fifteen minutes of the game. 

Sydney starts beside her, and there's fire in her eyes. Alex does everything she can to get her the ball, getting battered by the Canadian defense in the process. Then she finds an opening, sending a cross in just as she hits the end line, and Sydney reads it perfectly. 

If the crowd didn't hate her before, they loathe her now.

Abby gives a big speech in the locker room, about quieting the crowd and winning for Syd, and the locker room is buzzing like it did during halftime at Wembley Stadium three years ago.

Abby's words follow Alex back out onto the field and she steps up to Sydney and they exchange their customary hand shake

"Let's get you a couple more," she yells over the crowd. Sydney smiles and nods.

The third goal Sydney scores has the team tackling her near the end line, under a shower of beer as half-full cups are pitched down onto the field from the stands. They're drenched when they pull apart, and beer is running down Sydney's face and soaking her jersey and she's never looked happier. The rest of the team is headed to midfield when Sydney steps back towards the sidelines and lifts her head high so the entire supporter's section can watch her lick the beer from her lips with a triumphant smile.

Canada never gets a shot on goal.

 

* *

 

Sweden puts up a tenacious fight in the semifinals, and it's the first time all tournament the team has had to rally back to win.

Abby comes off the bench somewhere around the seventieth minute, and it ignites something in Alex. Together they score the equalizer, and then the game winner. When the whistle blows it's a jubilant, but cautious, celebration, and Kelley can already feel the bruises forming along her ribs.

She finds Pia near the Swedish bench, and Kelley knows she owes a lot to this woman. The long hug they share is for a lot of things.

When she finally makes it to Alex, after hugs and slaps on the butt and Abby picking her up and swinging her around, they're standing alone at midfield as the crowd streams out.

She reaches for Alex's hand without thinking of anything else. Alex swings their hands softly between them, a wide smile on her face.

"We're almost there."

 

* *

 

"You know, I've heard that a lot of athletes abstain from sex the night before a big game."

Alex's mouth on her neck forces Kelley's words out in halted breaths. She feels a teasing bite along her collarbone before Alex pulls away.

"Oh, did you want me to stop?"

Alex starts to roll off of the defender in disgruntled protest. Kelley let's her get as far as her feet touching the floor, because sexually frustrated Alex is her favorite, before she pulls Alex back toward her. Even in the dark, Kelley can tell Alex is smiling as she settles her weight back on top of her.

They'd stayed in separate rooms for the entire tournament, but on this last stop in Vancouver they negotiated with Christen and Becky and managed a room together. Alex needs Kelley, and Kelley needs Alex in this final push.

"I was just saying that it's a common belief among professional athletes that sex the night before a game can have adverse effects on performance. I read about it in Sports Illustrated."

"Where did you really read about it?"

"The Clinical Journal of Sports Medicine."

"There's my little nerd."

"Ok regardless of where I read it, the study did say that sex before can be good for an athlete who tends to feel overly anxious before a big match."

"Are you overly anxious?"

Alex's hand teases a line across Kelley's stomach, heat following the path of her fingers, and there's a gap between the mattress and the sudden arch of Kelley's spine.

"Oh yeah."

"You would use a science journal to get laid, Stanford."

"I'm doing it for my country."

Kelley's soft chants of 'USA!' are muffled when Alex's lips cover hers.

 

* *

 

It's fitting that Abby scores the only goal in the World Cup final.  

It's a perfect opening midway through the second half, as if the German defense is parted by some greater force, and when the ball leaves her foot Alex knows it's perfect. Abby could easily tap it in, but she's close enough to the goal, and maybe she knows this is her last one, so she smashes it past the keeper and there's a moment of silence so still Alex swears she can hear the ball curling along the nylon ropes of the net. 

And then the stadium erupts.

Abby heads straight for her, with the most intense look of joy Alex has ever seen, and they end up in a heap at the top of the eighteen. Abby yelling, "I love you, Alex" over and over into her ear, and Alex can't say anything because the lump in her throat is too big. 

The scoreline doesn't change for the last twenty minutes.

There's three minutes of stoppage time and it ticks down so slowly Alex is sure that time has stopped all together. There's a last ditch German sub, and Alex catches sight of Tobin who is trying to hide an enormous smile.

The German sub is quick, fresh legs and running on pure adrenaline. She catches a turnover and streaks up the flank but Ali's there and they dance around each other, Ali eventually trapping her down in the corner but giving up a corner kick in the process. 

Alex knows this is the last play, and they're all in the box, everybody on a mark, Kelley standing on the back post like it's the most important job she's ever had. 

And then it is.

The kick drops perfectly into the center of the box, right onto the head of their tallest player. Alex watches it streak towards the goal, far side, past Hope's diving form, but Kelley's there on the post and she gets a head on it like it's the easiest thing in the world. The ball lands somewhere outside of the box, with Lauren scrambling after it to clear it away.

The whistle blows and Alex is still standing in the same spot, staring wide-eyed at Kelley, this person she loves more than anything having just preserved their World Cup win in some moment that feels straight out of a movie. 

Kelley's laughing and crying, a walking contradiction as she stumbles towards Alex, arms outstretched to reach her faster. The rest of the team is streaking towards each other, slapping Kelley on the back as they run past, and colliding with the bench somewhere outside the attacking third, but Kelley and Alex have grown roots into the spot on the pitch.

"I love you, Kelley. I love you. I love you."

The back of Alex's jersey is knotted up in Kelley's hands, and she's holding on so tightly that Alex can feel her heartbeat against her chest. 

There are cameras all around them, guys in brightly colored vests clicking away at this moment they think is just between teammates, and this picture of the the two of them will end up on the front page of a few newspapers, and inside Sports Illustrated. Pinoe will frame a copy and mail it to them as a joke, and Kelley will display it with absolute pride on the mantel above the fireplace in their living room. For now though, no one else exists.

When they break apart, Alex wipes at the tears on Kelley's face, not caring at all about how it might be perceived and they can't stop smiling because this is everything.

 

* *

 

It's Abby who drapes the American flag over her shoulders, after Alex and Kelley had eventually sprinted down field towards their teammates, holding hands like a couple of kids.

The flag over her shoulders feels like Abby's way of passing the torch, and Alex can't help the tears that fall when she turns to hug her. Abby's mumbling something that sounds like 'thank you' into her neck, and hugging her so tightly Alex almost can't breathe.

When they break apart they each grab an end of the flag and run a victory lap around the field. Alex finds her family with Kelley's, and even twenty rows up she can tell her dad is crying

They run a second lap around the field just for the hell of it.


	6. Chapter 6

It's September when Tobin announces that she's going to move out.

It had been Kelley's idea to spend the morning surfing, mostly because Alex still hasn't gotten the hang of it, and Kelley takes a lot of pleasure in being better than her at anything. The three of them float on their boards, far enough from the shore that it feels like they're completely alone. After months of post-World Cup media frenzy and cross-country victory tour games, they take solace in the reassuring motion of the waves.

Tobin's announcement is typical Tobin, casual and completely out of the blue.

"But why?" Kelley whines, 

"I don't know. Because?" Tobin's hand skims the surface of the water.

"Have we been making you feel like a third wheel? I swear we've been on our best behavior for the past few months. When's the last time you caught us doing anything dirty?"

Tobin grins at her like Kelley knows the answer, and Kelley responds by rolling her eyes.

"Whatever. If I dump Alex, will you stay?"

"Hey," Alex sends a splash of salt water towards Kelley.

"It's just the way that timing worked out. Syd needs a roommate, plus I figured I should probably move out before the two of you get married and try to adopt me or something," Tobin laughs, and the ocean is like glass.

"Whoa dude, nobody's getting married," Kelley's laughing, but she wonders if she protested Tobin's joke too aggressively. She looks over at Alex, who's quiet and pensive.

"Plus, who says we'd even want to adopt you?" Alex is smiling, and Kelley feels oddly relieved.

"Whatever. You know you would." Tobin looks back as the waves start to pick up, "I'll only be ten minutes down the coast. You'll survive."

* *

Tobin moves out a month later, in between breaks on the victory tour.

They spend the morning packing Tobin's things into suitcases and backpacks. Alex folds shirts and tank tops like she's spent a lifetime working retail, Tobin preferring to ball everything up and shove it into whatever space is left. Kelley lays across Tobin's bed, her arms folded over her chest, hoping someone will notice her pouting.

A few surfboards and the rest of Tobin's possessions are loaded into the back of Sydney's too-big SUV, and when the new roommates drive away, Tobin hangs her head out of the window and waves goodbye.

Everything already feels different when Kelley and Alex step back into the apartment, and it's not just the absence of Tobin and her pile of flip flops that used to occupy the space near the front door. This had been their house for so long, just the three of them in an apartment filled with furniture handed down from Alex's sister, but now that it's just the two of them, it's become a home. Their home.

Kelley seems to realize it at the same time as Alex, but the two of them don't acknowledge it, not yet anyway. There's plenty of time for that.

* *

They burn dinner more than once in the first few weeks without Tobin.

Alex is in charge of picking the meal prep music, she's been on a Band of Horses kick lately, before she sits on the countertop and drinks wine while Kelley moves around the kitchen with frightening precision. She's an ace with a knife, and doesn't bother with recipes or precise measurements. Alex always means to ask her where she learned to cook, but Kelley's intensity is a bigger turn on then Alex cares to admit. The kitchen is the one place where Kelley is calm, methodical, intensely focused, until Alex reaches over to trace her toe up Kelley's calf.

The chef's knife clattering against the kitchen counter after being dropped is Alex's favorite noise.

* *

The victory tour takes a long break in November, and the month at home is the longest stretch of time they've spent as a couple that lives together.

The bickering isn't constant, but its sudden presence is startling all the same.

They squabble about the empty coffee cups Kelley leaves in every room of the house, and how Alex always forgets at least one thing on the grocery list when she comes home from the store. Some days there are slammed doors, or Alex hiding Kelley's Stanford sweatshirt under the bed out of spite and then watching her scramble around the house looking for it while she stretches out across the couch. Sometimes Kelley calls her Alexandra in a tone so snotty Alex actually scoffs at the sound of it.

They learn to apologize in their own ways, without ever using the actual words. Alex tends to lean across the couch and nudge Kelley on the cheek with the tip of her nose until the defender breaks, laughing as she finally turns to kiss it all away. Kelley likes to reach for Alex's hand, her fingers dancing a path across her palm before she eventually laces their fingers together and doesn't let go.

* *

Some days they fight about bigger things.

Kelley doesn't know about Alex's offer from a French team until she's already turned it down. Alex brings it up so casually in conversation that Kelley almost misses it, but it's there, and Alex can't take it back.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because. I don't know. I didn't think I needed to? I wasn't ever going to consider taking the offer. We have qualifiers in January, and I don't want to be half a world away from the team in the lead up to the Olympics."

"I don't care if you weren't going to take the offer, you still should have told me about it."

"Why are you getting so mad about this?"

"Because the things you consider insignificant, maybe they mean something to me. I'm your girlfriend, we live together, and you didn't even think to mention this to me."

"Um, guys?" They both turn to look at Sydney and Tobin at the same time. Tobin gives a sheepish wave, and Sydney holds out her empty wine glass.

"Would now be a bad time to ask for some more wine?"

Kelley stands with the wine, her grip so tight around the neck of the bottle that her knuckles turn white. She slams it down on the table in front of Sydney, hard enough that Syd's eyes go wide and she has to bite the inside of her lips to keep her mouth shut.

"I'm going for a walk," she turns on her heel back towards Alex, and points right at her. "You, don't follow me."

The door closes behind her, and Sydney wastes no time grabbing the bottle of wine and refilling her glass. She swirls the malbac in her glass, taking time to smell the grapes, wafting the fumes towards her nose like she knows what she's doing. Tobin sits next to her, trying to stifle a laugh into the sleeve of her hoodie.

"I really don't like the two of you teaming up," Alex mumbles.

"You know that was something you should have told her, right?" Sydney tilts her head towards Alex.

"Yes, I realize that."

"Dude, why is it always you getting in trouble?"

"Because, Tobin, sometimes I have a problem saying the right thing and sometimes that gets me in trouble. Trust me, though. Kelley does plenty of crap to get her in trouble with me."

"Like what?"

"I don't have a list handy," Alex says through gritted teeth. She waits a beat before she flies up out of her chair. "I'm going for a walk."

"We'll just be here, finishing this wine."

Alex finds her a short walk from the apartment, sprawled out flat on her back on the sand, her bare feet pointed towards the ocean. Kelley doesn't say anything, and Alex considers stretching out next to her but sits instead.

"You were right, I should have told you about the Paris offer."

"That's what I'm saying dude," Kelley says. When Alex looks down at her, Kelley's smiling. 

"If I had taken the offer, would you have come with me?"

It's a question that hangs heavy between them for a moment too long. It surprises Alex.

"Would you have come with me?" Alex asks again, more serious this time.

"I don't know, Al," Kelley says, staring up at the fading sky. "We fight enough here as it is, can you imagine what the two of us shacked up in Paris, not knowing anyone or the language, would be like? We'd kill each other."

"We don't fight that much."

"You don't think so?"

"There've been some growing pains with Tobin moving out, and the two of us learning how to live together on our own, but we're just finding our way. It's normal."

"Is it?"

"Yeah, I think so. Look, you're the first person I've dated that I've lived with. Officially, at least. I stayed with Servando a week out of every month, if we were lucky, but that was never really my place. I had a drawer and a key, but it wasn't like this. We have a home now, and I know that's a big deal and a little bit overwhelming, and it's taking a little bit of time for us to figure everything out, but I know that there's no one else I'd rather do this with."

Alex knows everything about Kelley O'Hara. She can read her moods, and confidently identify the multitude of disgruntled noises Kelley can make throughout the day. Alex knows her deepest fears and the most sensitive places on her skin to press lips and teeth and tongue to. She knows her favorite song to kiss to, and the weight of Kelley's arm across her back in the early hours of morning, and the way cool metal of that ring she always wears feels when it drags across Alex's thighs.

And Alex knows when she's said the right thing, when that worried crease between Kelley's eyebrows fades, and the corners of her mouth turn up with no effort.

Kelley snakes her arm behind Alex's neck and pulls her down for a kiss so firm that Alex has to brace herself with her hands in the sand on either side of Kelley. When Kelley pulls away, her eyes stay locked on Alex's lips until she leans up to kiss her again, softer this time.

"Ask me again if I would have gone with you to Paris." Kelley's breath is on her chin and the length of her neck, and Alex wants to kiss her again.

"Would you have come with me to Paris?"

"I would have seriously considered it," Kelley lifts her head to press a kiss to Alex's chin. "I do love croissants."

"And you love me."

"And I love you."

Kelley's smile fades, her eyes tracing the angles of Alex's face before her fingers follow the same path, eventually reaching the loose strand of hair that has fallen across Alex's cheek. She tucks the hair behind Alex's ear and lets her arm drop back into the sand, her finger brushing the loose hem of Alex's top.

"Take me home."

Tobin and Sydney are still sitting at the table when Kelley drags Alex back into the house by her hand.

"Did you guys kiss and make up?"

Kelley stops short, Alex running into the back of her, both of them having forgotten about their dinner guests. There's a second bottle of wine open. Sydney has her feet up on the table, and Tobin's nose is buried in a surfing magazine.

"We haven't finished yet," Kelley pulls Alex towards the table, smacking Sydney's feet down from the top of it before they head towards the bedroom.

"Lock up when you leave."

* * *

In December, Alex almost buys Kelley a ring.

It's a spontaneous decision to step into the small jewelry store around the corner from their favorite coffee shop. Alex needs a Christmas present for Kelley, and she's looking for earrings in the glass cases when her eyes flick towards the small section of antique diamond rings.

It's just a quick glance at first, but then she looks again, longer this time, and she forgets about the earrings.

The older man behind the counter asks her if she wants to look at them. Alex laughs and tells him no, but something in the way her voice wavers has him pulling the tray out anyway.

She's just going to look to be polite, since he went through all the trouble of sliding open a door, but she finds herself immediately rejecting the first row of yellow gold rings, because Kelley would never. She doesn't let herself touch, though her fingers are tempted so she keeps them wrapped around her cooling to-go cup.

"Are you getting ideas to pass on to your boyfriend?" 

"No. No boyfriend." 

The old man has a gentle smile when Alex looks up at him. She waits a beat and then, "Girlfriend actually."

"You're passing ideas on to her then?"

There's a string of semi-panicked denials, and then Alex remembers Kelley isn't next to her.

"We haven't even talked about this really, I just came in to buy her some earrings for Christmas. We're not ready. I'm pretty sure we're not ready" she looks back down at the velvet tray, and points towards one that had caught her eye almost immediately. "But just out of curiosity, how much is this one?"

She leaves the store with a pair of delicate silver earrings and a cold coffee. There's no ring, but it's enough to know that there could be one day, that she knows without a doubt that Kelley is her forever. 

When she makes it back home, the box of earrings hidden away in the bottom of her purse, she finds Kelley on the tip of her toes digging out boxes of Christmas lights from the highest shelf in the hall closet. She slides a reassuring hand across the smaller woman's back and slips behind her to pull the box of light effortlessly from the closet before handing them over to Kelley.

"Yeah, that's pretty much the reason I keep you around."

Alex doesn't take the bait, instead leaning down to kiss her softly until she can feel the pressure of Kelley's fingertips along her lower back.

"What was that for?" Kelley's grinning when she pulls away, brushing her fingers across the smear of lip balm that Alex took with her.

"I just- I adore you."

The box of Christmas lights fall forgotten at Kelley's feet when she rocks up onto her toes to kiss Alex senseless.


	7. Chapter 7

Two days after Alex almost buys Kelley an engagement ring, Abby calls to tell her she's retiring.

They're days away from leaving for Rochester, the victory tour stretching on for longer than it needs to, and the two of them are trying to pack for New York and for the time they'll spend in Georgia immediately after, their bed a mountain of clothes and shoes and heavy winter coats. Alex's phone rings, and she's so relieved at the break she takes the call in the other room, Kelley yelling after her that she better be coming back because she's not packing all this crap herself.

"Hey, what's going on?" 

It's not that late, just after nine, but Abby doesn't usually call her at all, the two of them usually communicating through epically long text messages that she can never bring herself to delete.

"I'm retiring in Rochester."

Alex doesn't respond right away. She paces a little, fiddling with her ponytail, the phone still pressed to her ear. Abby is graciously silent, letting it sink in for the younger forward. Eventually Alex gives up and lays down on the living room floor.

"Are you ok over there?" 

"I don't know," is the most honest answer she can manage. "I think I've been expecting it, but there was a little part of me that kind of hoped you'd always be next to me on that field."

"I wish I could have held on a little longer, take one more shot at the Olympics, but it's just time. My body is so tired, Alex. I'm so tired." Abby takes a long pause, and Alex can tell there's something else there. It's like she can hear Abby's smile on the other end, "Sarah and I have been talking about being ready for kids, and I just want to be around all the time for that. I've done everything I've ever wanted to do on the field, now I want to do all the other things.

"Abby, that's- I'm so happy for you, and for Sarah. This is so big." 

There's a tightness in Alex's chest, and she stares at the soft lights on the Christmas tree she and Kelley picked out with such careful consideration, and blinks back the threat of tears. 

"I'm really gonna miss you."

"I'll miss you too," Abby's voice is quiet, and it's disconcerting for a moment, this loud figure in her life suddenly muted, and almost gone. "You'll be ok without me though, I know you will. You're ready for this. You've been ready for a long time"

The phone goes silent again, this time on both ends.

"Shit," Alex laughs, no longer actively trying to hold back the few tears that slip down her cheek. "That was some heavy stuff you just dropped on me."

"I know, I'm sorry. Sarah and Tom are the only other people who know, but I just- you're my partner. I couldn't tell you the way I'll tell the rest of the team."

"Thank you for that."

"And I don't expect you to keep this from Kelley. I do, however, wish that I could keep this from Heif. He's next on my list. I'm hoping that if I give him short enough notice I can retire without a spectacle."

"Good luck with that, it's Heif."

"I'm going to let you go, ok? I haven't packed anything at all yet, and I should probably start."

"I'm really gonna miss you, Abby," Alex says again, because it's the only thing she can think of.

"I'll see you in two days," Abby says lightly, and they both hang up knowing that isn't at all what Alex meant.

* *

Kelley's kneeling on top of her Georgia suitcase when Alex makes it back to the bedroom. There's hair falling out of her messy bun and across her face as she struggles to zip her bag closed.

"Next time I'm shipping the god damn presents, I swear," Kelley says, edging the zipper around the final curve. She blows the hair out of her face and looks up at Alex. "Whoa, what's wrong?"

"Abby's retiring after the game."

"Shit," Kelley huffs. "Really?"

"Yep."

"Are you ok?"

Alex shrugs her shoulders, and there's something about tonight that has her wanting to lay out defeated across the floor, and so that's what she does. Kelley's crawling across the floor towards her before she has to ask.

Kelley curls around her, head tucked under Alex's chin, ear pressed to the space over her heart. Her body is warm from all the packing she's done, and Alex finds comfort in the reassuring heat.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"I don't know. I feel stupid for taking this so hard. Abby's ready, and I know that she's been ready, and this shouldn't be about how I feel, but I feel like I'm losing a piece of myself as a player."

"It's ok to be upset about this, you know? Doesn't mean you don't support her decision, it just means you love her enough to be sad about it."

"Oh man," Alex groans, bringing her hand up to play with the loose strands of hair that still fall from Kelley's bun. "I'm really sad about it, Kell."

"I know you are, but it'll be ok," Kelley lifts her head and cranes her neck enough to press a soft kiss along Alex's jaw.

"That actually made me feel a little better," Alex smirks.

Kelley shifts to lay on her stomach, propped up by her elbows, chin tucked into her palm, before leaning down to press a kiss to the corner of Alex's mouth. 

"They're talking about having kids, Abby and Sarah. It's part of why she's finally ready to retire."

"Really?" Kelley grins, and Alex nods, smiling back like she's already a proud aunt. 

"Abby's going to be so good at being a mom."

"I think that I might want kids one day. Like, down the road. A long while down the road," Alex says it because it feels natural in this moment, it's not a test, it's just a thought that she can't help but think aloud.

"I think I might want kids too."

It's still an acknowledgement of something, a whisper of a promise, and it makes Alex swallow hard at the choked laugh that catches in her throat.

* * *

Heather's wearing the captain's arm band when they qualify for the Olympics, but it's Alex who replaces Abby as the emotional leader of the team.

Her voice is strong and sure as she directs traffic from the front line with authority. The three lines ebb and flow together like a piece of poetry, or at the very least, like one of Kelley's painstakingly agonized over make out playlists. Everyone falls in line behind her without question.

They're up by two in the final against Canada, and then three by the time the final whistle blows. Alex doesn't score, but it doesn't frustrate her the way it usually does. She's happy with two assists and the weight of a CONCACAF Champions medal heavy in her pocket as she climbs onto the bus after the game.

She only has the bus to herself for a few minutes, something soft playing though her headphones, before Kelley comes bounding down the aisle towards her, climbing over Alex to occupy the empty seat near the window.

"Buddy," Kelley breathes out the only pet name they allow, other than the occasional drunken drawl of 'honey' when Kelley's had too much. "You were so good out there tonight."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, being the boss looks good on you."

Kelley smiles at her and moves to sit cross-legged on the seat, her hands coming to rest on Alex's forearm. She's still bouncy with post-game energy, and it makes her eyes bright while her fingers drum a pattern against Alex's wrist.

"I think I'm technically HAO's sidekick, not the boss."

"You're my sidekick," Kelley grins, fingertips ghosting across Alex's palm. "Out there, you're our leader. Abby was right. You are ready for this."

This isn't like Canada. She feels more confident now, ready for the weight of this team to settle onto her shoulders, and she wonders how much of that can be owed to the person sitting next to her. Alex thinks it must be a lot. 

"We're going to the Olympics." Alex says softly, like it's just now hitting her. She means the team, but she also means the two of them, and Kelley must get it the way she smiles so wide that Alex wants to kiss the spot where her nose crinkles.

The rest of the team starts to trickle onto the bus, and Kelley leans over to press a kiss to Alex's temple. 

"Yeah, we are." Kelley whispers across her cheek. "I'm proud of you."

It's a fleeting, quiet moment, but the gentle reassurance sinks deep into Alex's bones.

Then Tobin's in the aisle, hovering over their row and feigning impatience, until Kelley starts to crawl over Alex's legs, selling her struggle a little harder than she needs to.

"I'm going, I'm going," Kelley whines before she settles into the seat one row behind. 

Tobin and Alex are still bus buddies. That much hasn't changed.

* * *

The list of people who know about them expands slowly over time. 

It's still a careful expansion, the two of them ever protective of their privacy, still unwilling to allow just anyone access to a part of their lives that is so deeply theirs. 

Their families know, immediate and otherwise, and then the entire coaching staff, although they just sort of figured it out on their own. Alex's agent is filled in eventually, and Kelley's closest friends from college are told after a spontaneous trip up to San Francisco, their mouths hanging open over their lattes until one of them finally picks up their coffee cup to initiate a toast.

"Here's to our Kelley landing Alex fucking Morgan."

* *

There's a wedding in March, just after the Algarve Cup. 

Kelley's childhood friend marries the first boy Kelley ever kissed and all the O'Hara's are in attendance, Alex tugged gently along by the hand as Kelley navigates the wooden pews of the small church. The ceremony is short, and Kelley keeps her fingers laced with Alex's, the late afternoon humidity making their palms sticky.

"You look beautiful."

Alex's whisper ghosts across the bare skin of her shoulder, and Kelley squeezes her hand tighter just as the bride says, "I do."

The reception is outside, soft lights and big trees, the sunset coloring everything a shade of orange that only exists in this place. Kelley introduces Alex as her girlfriend to the bride and groom, and tries not to roll her eyes when she sees the muscles flex in Alex's forearm as she shakes the hand of the boy Kelley thought she'd loved at twelve. 

"Don't worry, honey," Kelley says after they've walked away, her drawl thicker in the South and after at least four Heinekens. "You're way prettier than him."

Their table is the loudest, Jerry telling the same stupid stories they've heard dozens of times, a buzzed Alex egging him on, her arm draped across the back of Kelley's chair, laughing as she leans into Kelley and steals from her plate.

Somewhere around the cake cutting Kelley starts to fade, her head dropping onto Alex's shoulder. Erin smiles at her sister from across the table, pulling out her phone to document the moment with a picture, and Kelley feels so blissfully whole.

"Hey, I cannot be dating the person who crashes out early at a party. There is cheesy wedding music to dance to," Alex's hand is suddenly in her lap, fingers pressed into her thigh, and Kelley's body is humming again. "Let's go."

It isn't a statement, Alex as her plus one, or the two of them on the thinning dance floor together, Alex's hands low on Kelley's hips. It's just them, living their lives the way they want, dancing to Van Morrison while flower girls in white dresses twirl around their feet.

* * *

It's the restlessness that wakes her.

Alex is a heavy sleeper, forever stretched out on her stomach, limbs spread across the bed, face buried into her pillow, as if her body is grateful for the chance to finally just be still. It's Kelley that tends to twist and turn around her, a mess of arms and legs that are forever seeking access to Alex's sleeping form.

Kelley's found a comfortable spot, her spine curved along the length of Alex's ribs. She can feel every breath, and none of them are deep enough for sleep. Alex rolls over onto her back, kicking at the blankets until they're bunched around her feet, and her hand comes to rest on the slope of Kelley's hip.

"Kell, are you awake?"

She doesn't want to be. Her body is sore from jet lag and other things that involved the slow peeling away of clothes because they were happy to be home after six days of sharing Kelley's double bed down the hall from her parents' bedroom.

"No," she eventually answers, stretching muscles that burn and joints that pop, before burrowing herself deeper into the blankets. "I'm not awake."

"I can't sleep," Alex mumbles, her husky voice taking on an innocent tone in the early hours of morning.

"It's easy. You close your eyes and stop talking and then you just like, fall asleep. It's awesome." 

"I've been trying that for the last three hours. It's not working."

"Try harder."

"Can you rub my back?"

"I can't rub your back. I'm asleep."

"Come on, you know it helps me sleep. My mom used to do it for me when I was a kid."

"That's even more reason for me to not do it."

"Kelley please? Come on. Five minutes."

"Oh my god. You're so annoying at three in the morning." Kelley huffs, shoving her share of the blankets down towards her feet. "Five minutes. That's it."

Kelley rolls onto her side, and presses her hand onto Alex's back, rubbing a slow figure eight over the faded Cal shirt she'd slipped on before they'd fallen asleep.

"You read that article, didn't you?" 

"I didn't read it. I just can't sleep."

"You, the person who would fall asleep right after dinner if I let you, can't sleep? Because I'm exhausted after a four hour flight, a layover, two delays, Tobin forgetting to pick us up from the airport for an hour, and then we barely made it through the front door before you were pulling off my shirt. I'm still not wearing any pants."

"Well I am goal-less in five straight games, including Algarve, and we just spent a week sleeping within ear shot of your parents. So if I can't score on the field, I can at least score with my lady."

"Your lady? I knew a week in the South would be too much for you to handle," Kelley teases, eliciting a tired laugh from Alex. "And I knew you read it. That slump article was bullshit, Al. It was just some stupid words to get a few hits to his sports site."

It's quiet for a beat, and Kelley wonders if Alex has fallen asleep until she hears a deep sigh sent somewhere into the dark.

"Are you worried about it?"

"Not yet."

"Alex."

"I'm not worried about it, yet. It's only been five games. I just- it's a long stretch for me and now other people are talking about it being a slump, and I think it's just messing with my head a little. I want to talk about it, but I don't want to talk about it? I think maybe it's enough to acknowledge it out loud for right now."

"The goals will come. I know that, and you know that. That stupid reporter knows it too."

"I know," Alex says quietly, through another deep sigh, as she resigns her fate to the impossible task of just being patient.

Kelley still has her hand on her back, her fingertips drawing horizontal lines across muscle and skin and well worn cotton, and she can feel Alex's breaths growing deeper beneath her palm.

There's one final shift, Alex's hand coming to rest on the exposed skin of Kelley's neck, the pad of her thumb brushing soft arcs across the slope of her cheek.

"I had fun with you at the wedding." Alex's eyes are tired but pacified, and they close easily while she speaks. "I liked being in love with you in front of all those people."

It's the last thing she says before she falls asleep, and then it's Kelley's turn to stare up at the ceiling, sleep eluding her while she's left to feel the blissful weight of something so absolute settle into her chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we're almost to the end. thanks for all the encouragement along the way.


	8. Chapter 8

There are rumblings of a new league in the months before the Olympics.

Cities are mentioned, interested coaches are whispered about, and Kelly finds herself quietly hoping for a team in LA so they won't have to relocate. When it all collapses before it ever really starts, Kelley feels stupid for getting her hopes up over talk. 

Sometimes soccer breaks her heart.

* *

"I think you need to consider that offer to play in Paris."

It's been on her mind for weeks, since Heif emailed them to say that a new league had stalled, again. It makes her stomach ache and twist to think about, and to finally say it out loud is even worse.

Alex is hunched over a bowl of cereal when Kelley says it, chewing with intense concentration as she scrolls through an endless list of emails on her phone. The spoon clinks loudly against the edge of the bowl when Alex drops it.

"What?" Alex asks slowly, swallowing hard at a mouthful of Lucky Charms.

"This league probably isn't happening, and I don't know, maybe you should think about it."

"So you'd come with me if I did?" Alex asks the question in a way that tells Kelley she already knows the answer.

"Nobody's offering me a contract at the moment. Left backs don't really have the same draw as world class strikers, you know?"

"You could come with me without a contract."

Kelley isn't ready to live a life without soccer, even if it would mean days spent wandering around museums and lattes in tiny cafes, and going to sleep next to Alex every night.

"You know I can't, Alex," she says softly, and it makes her heart hurt when she sees the way Alex's face falls anyway.

Kelley's had her chair pushed up against Alex's since they sat down to eat breakfast together, feet tucked up on the bottom rungs, her coffee cup warming a circle on the top of Alex's thigh. She wants to take it all back when Alex pushes her chair back from the table, Kelley's bare feet falling unceremoniously to the floor.

"It doesn't matter anyway. I'm not playing overseas," Alex crosses the kitchen to dump her still full cereal bowl into the sink.

"I'm gonna take a shower, we need to go grocery shopping before the afternoon rush."

And then she's gone, her untouched cup of coffee left to cool on the table.

* *

Kelley's sitting cross-legged on the edge of the bed when Alex gets out of the shower.

She's been in the same spot for thirty minutes, Alex's quick shower turning into a long and cathartic release that has steam curling out from underneath the bathroom door and mixing with the ocean breeze from the open windows of their bedroom. There's a loose thread at the edge of their comforter, because to Kelley dry clean only is just a suggestion, and she wraps it around her finger and tries to tug it loose but the thread is too stubborn to break. 

Alex eventually comes out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped loosely around her mid-section, covering pieces of skin Kelley has seen hundreds of times before. Alex rummages through dresser drawers for clothes, not bothering to put her wet hair up in a towel. Kelley watches tiny streams of water drip from the ends of her hair and run trails over the the muscles in her back, and she wants nothing more than than to drag her fingers along the same path and forget everything else.

"Are you mad at me?" Kelley asks softly, just as Alex is dropping her towel and slipping into a pair of gym shorts.

"No," Alex says, sounding tired and vulnerable from too much open space around her and not enough clothes, naked from the waist up in the middle of their bedroom, Kelley trying not to look.

She pulls a t-shirt on and knots her wet hair into a messy bun that hangs heavy and low before settling onto the bed next to Kelley, enough space between them to prove a silent point.

"I don't want to think about rolling over every morning and not seeing your face. I don't."

"It would only be for the second half of the season by the time the olympics are over and tours are finished. That's not even six full months."

"And then what? I'd come back home for a month, maybe two, and then go back to play a full season because it'd be an off year? I'd be gone almost eighteen months." There's an edge of irritation in her voice, and it's almost enough to mask the hurt. 

"I don't want to be away from you for eighteen months, away from our home, away from my family. I don't want to go months without touching you and kissing you."

Alex looks defeated in a way that tells Kelley this isn't the first time Alex has thought about having to play overseas and what it would mean for them, what it would cost them.

Kelley reaches across the bed for Alex's hand and they're far enough apart, tension and frustration forcing an invisible distance, that she can only get her fingers around the edges of Alex's but she squeezes tight anyway. Eventually she scoots across the bed until her knee is pressed into Alex's thigh and their fingers knot together easily this time.

"Al, I'm sorry, ok? I didn't want to make you upset. I just want you to know that this is an option for you, and I think it's something we both know you need to have an open mind about and consider carefully. And if you decide to go, I will miss you horribly until the day you come home, but I will still be here when you do."

"Can we just not think about this until after the Olympics? I know what you're saying and I know you're probably right, but I swear to god, Kelley, thinking about this makes my heart hurt, and I just can't do this right now."

"Ok," Kelley says gently, turning to wrap her legs around Alex's waist, her chin coming to rest on the forward's shoulder. She lets her hand trace patterns of reassurance across Alex's back. 

"Kell?"

"Yeah?"

"I don't want to go grocery shopping anymore."

Kelley wants to smile at how innocent Alex sounds, but she's mad instead, that this is a reality they might have to face, living half a world away from each other because this sport they love won't love them back. 

"Hey, look at me," Kelley speaks softly, reaching her hand up to trace the curve of Alex's ear.

When Alex turns towards her, Kelley leans over to kiss her, softly at first, but then Alex has her hands knotted up so suddenly and so desperately in the back of Kelley's shirt that it devolves quickly into urgent hands and lips and breath.

Kelley has her shirt off in one confident tug, then Alex is lifting her arms in silent invitation before she can even reach for the bottom hem. It's hardly ever like this, needy and conflicted, but Kelley doesn't think about that when she's pressing Alex's back into the mattress, straddling her hips and peeling away clothes until they both forget the ache in their chests.

* * *

They had agreed, on somewhat shaky terms, not to talk about Alex playing overseas, but thinking about it proves to be unavoidable.

There are two friendlies in late May and Alex extends her scoreless streak to seven games, and then she can't ignore that either.

By the time they land back in LA there are no less than four articles circulating online about the star striker heading towards Rio in the middle of the longest scoring drought of her career.

She watches three episodes of Sportscenter in a row, her notable streak sandwiched between basketball highlights and baseball trade rumors, an endless video loop from the last friendly of her shots hitting the crossbar and skimming just wide of the post. They've done the math, and so has she. 615 minutes without a goal. The number flashes on the screen in a tacky graphic next to her outdated headshot.

When the fourth hour starts Kelley crosses the living room and turns off the tv.

"Stop doing this to yourself and come eat dinner."

Alex pushes chicken around her plate and tries not to think about the way the ball hasn't felt right curving of her foot in she doesn't know how long and what the weather in Paris is like in the spring.

* * *

Alex doesn't sleep on her stomach anymore.

It's a sudden and silent change. the way she curves herself around Kelley one night after they've ignored Paris again, a heavy arm around the smaller woman's ribcage, her fingers wedged between Kelley's skin and the dip of the mattress, pulling her in so tightly that Kelley can feel her heartbeat against her back. 

It takes a few tries to adapt to this new arrangement, Kelley so used to moving and shifting over the course of the night, but she learns to let the press of a nose to the back of her neck, warm breath on her skin, and the tangle of Alex's long legs between her own lull her to sleep. 

Kelley finds a strange comfort in the soreness of her ribs some mornings, from fingertips pressed too hard to skin and bone, Alex holding on like she's afraid to let go. It's a reminder of the closeness they still share at night, when Alex draws away during the day.

* * *

Alex makes it eight straight without a goal in the send-off game against Australia.

She makes it thirty minutes and two shots saved easily by the keeper, and one that sails ten feet over the bar, before she takes out the defender who's been clipping at her heels all night. It's not the tackle that earns her a yellow, it's the hard shove she gives her after, the aggressive step towards her with clenched hands. Lauren is pulling her away by a handful of jersey and HAO's trying to talk down the ref but Alex knows what's coming. 

The ref shows her a yellow, that probably could have been a red, and she can't remember the last time she's been subbed out in the first half. Press is at midfield, Alex's number glowing red on the fourth officials substitution board, and she tries to not to look at Kelley and her gentle head shake of disbelief as she steps off the field.

Tom pats her on the back as she walks past, and his soft accent makes the order of hitting the locker room early gentler than it should be. 

Her boots get pitched across the empty locker room with a lot more force than she intended, knocking into the trainers table, rolls of tape and magic spray spilling onto the ground, and she spends the next ten minutes delicately re-rolling spilled pre-wrap before anyone else can see what she's done, angry tears stinging the back of her eyes.

* * 

She calls Abby when they get back to the hotel that night, after she's skipped the team dinner and taken up residence in a lounge chair at the empty pool.

"Do you think I need to go play overseas?"

"I thought for sure you were calling about the goal thing," Abby mercifully avoids the word 'slump' but Alex exhales dramatically all the same.

"I want to talk about that even less than I want to talk about playing overseas."

"Who's offering you a contract?" Abby asks without questioning, like she's been expecting this call in some form for awhile.

"Everyone. French teams, Swedish teams, my agent forwarded me an offer this morning from Bayern Munich and it's big, like, can't turn it down big."

"Do you want to play over there?"

Alex stares at the water and pouts, "I want to play here."

"And what about an actual option?"

Alex is quiet for a long time, knowing that if she says out loud the things she's been keeping in for weeks it will make it all real.

"I know that I need to play over there, and I think I might want to play over there. I just had all these plans, you know?"

"Those plans don't have to change, they just might get pushed back a little."

"I bought Kelley a ring," Alex just sort of blurts it out, and it hangs there in the air for a minute. The hand she slaps over her mouth comes far too late to help.

"Whoa," Abby says finally, more than a hint of amusement in her voice. "Yeah, I was not expecting that."

"Neither was I, but we came home from that wedding in Georgia last month better than we've ever been and I just went and bought it the next day. I've never been so sure of anything, Abby, but then the league stalled and Kelley isn't coming with me if I go, and everything is just flipped on its head." 

"Here's what I think, ok? You have to be playing somewhere professionally. And right now, overseas is your only option. Sign a six month contract, play half a season, and maybe when you come back there's a league waiting for you, because I really think there will be. And as for you and Kelley, this isn't going to be anything but a tiny footnote on your life together, because that girl is madly in love with you, Alex, and I know how much you love her. All the distance in the world isn't going to change the way you feel about each other. So just trust in that and you'll be ok."

Abby still feels like her captain in this moment, her words still as important to Alex as they were in so many huddles on so many different sidelines. She thinks Abby might always feel like her captain, and she is grateful for it.

"And hey, when you and Kelley get hitched, because you will, I have one request."

"What's that?" 

"Open bar."

Alex feels like she's laughing out loud for the first time in weeks.

* *

Whitney's no longer her roommate when she makes it back to her hotel room.

Kelley's overnight bag is open near the foot of the bed, shoes and underwear spilling over the edge, its owner stretched out on top of the blankets, her nose buried in a book. 

She doesn't look up until the door clicks shut behind Alex, pushing her thick-framed reading glasses up onto the top of her head, dragging the hair back from her face. Alex leans against the wall in the shallow hallway, her arms wrapped tightly around herself, and just watches.

"Hey, killer," Kelley's smile is wide and easy. "I switched with Whit. I think everyone just wants to give you some space, they know you're stressed and stuff. Plus, you know that feistiness is kind of a turn on for me."

Kelley laughs but her face falls quickly when Alex doesn't.

"I'm just joking, Al."

"I'm going to take that offer from Bayern Munich," Alex says softly, and it sounds like an apology.

Kelley's off the bed, her book and glasses tossed aside, and padding across the small room that suddenly feels so still. Alex can't look at her, and it isn't until Kelley is standing in front of her, pushing up on her toes to kiss her, that Alex remembers to exhale.

"It's ok," Kelley says it against her mouth, and Alex almost believes her. 

"I'm sorry," Alex swallows hard around the words.

"Please don't be," Kelley says softly, her fingers pressed along Alex's spine and the nape of her neck, keeping her pulled in as close as she can. "I know that you have to go, and I know how hard it was for you to make this decision. So please don't be sorry, Alex. I want you to be happy about this. It's a good thing."

"How are you so ok with all of this?" And Alex thinks that that's always been the hardest part, Kelley's gentle encouragement to leave her behind.

"Because I have to be." There's a sudden quiver in Kelley's voice, and when Alex meets her eyes she can see how well Kelley has hidden it all away. "Thinking about being without you for six months makes me really fucking sad, Al. And I don't want to be sad about this, I want to be excited for you, and I am, but that doesn't mean I'm not going to miss you."

It's Alex that kisses first this time, a quick press to the lips, the pads of her thumbs wiping away at tears that haven't fallen yet.

"I'm still yours every day for another six months. And then every day after that."

It's Alex's own acceptance of her future, in Germany and with Kelley, and she feels lighter than she has in weeks. 

Kelley kisses her again, and when she peels away Alex's clothes it isn't like the last time they talked about being apart, panic making touches feel desperate and foreign. Alex's touch is gentler when she steps over discarded clothes and pulls Kelley into a shower, fingers wrapped delicately around her wrist, tugging just enough to lead. Kelley's hair smells like Alex's shampoo, and the bad weeks wash away over freckled shoulders and scarred knees, forgotten with the press of fingertips into skin.

* *

Alex still sleeps curved around her, but Kelley can't feel her fear across her ribs in the morning.

* * *

They celebrate two years together on the rooftop of the team hotel, the hazy lights of San Paulo glowing beneath them, four days out from their opening match against Australia.

It's Kelley's plan and Alex doesn't bother questioning how she managed a key to access the roof, or where the bottle of champagne she'd smuggled through the team's loud hallway had come from, although she'd bet money on Syd being involved somehow.

The champagne is cheap and lukewarm, but they toast with half-filled gatorade cups and kiss until they're drunk on something other than cheap booze.

Kelley's back is pressed into the hastily made nest of hotel comforters swiped from their rooms, and when she pulls back, needing deep lungfuls of breath, her lips are swollen and red and Alex is pleased with her handiwork. Kelley breathes deep and Alex's fingers stay busy, tracing collarbones over the soft fabric of the shirt Kelley had swiped from Alex's drawer before they'd left for Brazil. 

Kelley reaches for her hand just as it skims over the space near her heart, and she stills it, pressing it tight into her bones.

"Happy two years, Al."

Alex ducks her head to press a kiss to the curve of her jaw, and the shadows of Kelley's neck smell like expensive soap and the cheap detergent their training gear is washed in. Alex wants to breathe it in forever.

"If you would have told me about this little surprise anniversary party I might have brought your present to Brazil."

"That would have ruined the 'surprise' part of the surprise anniversary party." Kelley waits a beat and then raises an eyebrow. "You don't have a present yet."

"I totally do."

She doesn't, not really, but she's suddenly thinking about the ring box tucked into the pocket of her least favorite winter coat and shoved all the way into the furthest corner of their closet.

"You're serious?" Kelley grins.

"Yeah, I'm totally serious."

Alex feels like Kelley is scouring the lines of her face for some sort of hint, and she leans down to kiss the sudden curiosity away.

"A gold medal would be an acceptable gift fill-in until we get back to LA. I'm just saying," Kelley trails off, propping herself up on a shaky elbow to drain the last of her champagne, the laughter at her own joke echoing into the empty cup.

"No one laughs harder at a Kelley O'Hara joke than Kelley O'Hara."

Kelley laughs louder, the champagne encouraging it, and Alex wants to press her lips to the joy humming in Kelley's throat.

And when she does, Kelley softens, suddenly serious and quiet, and she leans back into the blanket with her hands twisted around the collar of Alex's shirt, pulling her down to lay across her chest. Alex's face hovers inches above Kelley's, steady breaths playing across her chin.

"I'm glad you kissed me in the kitchen that night."

There's no smile curving at Kelley's mouth when she says it, because those words aren't meant to be taken lightly. Kelley leans up to kiss her, and Alex swear it's the softest she's ever been kissed. 

There's an ache in her chest that she wants to know forever, and she thinks about that ring in her coat pocket, and the question is on the tip of her tongue until she swallows it back, and it's like a dry pill the way it sticks in her throat and takes a little extra coaxing to go down.

She doesn't want the ring, and her question, to feel like an attempt to pull Kelley to Germany, even if it means waiting longer to ask. Even if all she wants to do is ask her right now.

"I'm glad you kissed me back," she says instead, because it's just as important.

"Al," Kelley says softly, fingertips dragging through Alex's hair and across her skin. "I was always going to kiss you back."

* * *

Tom tells her she's starting against Australia hours before he gives the lineup to anyone else. 

He drops a hand onto her shoulder in the empty training room and tells her to forget about everything before and to just play her game, and all Alex can think is that maybe she doesn't remember how to.

She's nervous in a way she hasn't been in a long time, since first camp and first cap, that first time her lips trailed the skin across Kelley's neck. Her hands shake the entire bus ride to the stadium, and she's thankful that Tobin's too in the zone to notice.

She can't concentrate in the locker room, and she takes to pacing down the row of shower stalls where no one can see her, but gives up after she spends too long trying to stop visualizing her shots skipping wide of the post and just over the crossbar. She thinks about talking to Kelley on the way back to her locker, but she's huddled in the corner with Syd, arguing over the pre-game playlist, and Alex doesn't want to weigh her down.

It's a nervous habit, chewing the corner of her bottom lip, and tasting blood while she pulls on warm up gear is the reason she goes digging in Kelley's locker for the tube of chapstick she never remembers in her own bag. 

She almost misses it, and it forces a double take but it's there in block letters and gold thread. Alex's initials, APM so there's no room for interpretation, stitched just below the laces of Kelley's game boots. It's proud and permanent on the outside of the soft leather and Alex knows it's meant only for her, but it still feels bigger than that.

She looks back at Kelley, still fighting over the iPod with Syd, oblivious to what Alex has found, and there's a clench in her heart and a stillness in her hands.

Alex runs her fingers over the careful stitching, and she feels invincible. 

She scores a brace, and when she kisses Kelley in the tunnel after the game, firm and happy and full of relief, Alex knows she doesn't need to tell her why.

The goals don't stop after that.

* * *

There's the weight of another gold medal around her neck, the second one just as sweet as the first, and it's barely controlled chaos in their locker room. Champagne soaks her uniform and drips from the end of her eyelashes, and the shouts of her teammates echo off the walls and into her chest.

Everything is perfect.

Lauren's behind her and lifting her off the ground, and with a few extra inches she catches sight of Alex over the top of Megan's head. The world slows for just a moment and when Alex tips her head back to laugh with Tobin, not because of a joke, just pure and sudden joy, Kelley is instantly sure of so many things. Her feet are headed towards Alex before they're even back on the ground.

Alex smiles wide when she sees her, and Kelley's not even close enough to touch her before she's blurting out the words that suddenly fill her head and her mouth and her heart. There's a spray of champagne as she says it, Tobin shaking the last of the bottle in Kelley's direction, and Tobin hears it before Alex does and her eyes go wide before she starts to laugh.

"Go away," Kelley yells, hand over Tobin's mouth as she shoves her away, and Alex looks at Kelley like she wants to be let in on the joke.

"You didn't hear me?"

Alex shakes her head, and Kelley knows she could take it back right now, but she doesn't. She's sure. Kelley grabs her face with both hands and there's champagne running down the slopes of Alex's cheeks and across her lips, and the way Kelley loves her right now, the way Kelley has always loved her, feels bigger than gold medals and the view from the top of the podium.

Alex's face is in her hands and Kelley's words are quieter this time, steadier as they ghost across Alex's skin.

"Marry me?"


	9. Chapter 9

“Do you think I’ll win Player of the Year this time?”

It’s quiet and unassuming the way she asks it, but Kelley’s felt the subtle build of anxiousness in Alex since they landed in Switzerland. It’s there in the quiet moments alone in their room after press conferences and interviews, or in the way Alex’s mind wanders during dinner with her parents, periodically needing Kelley’s hand on her leg to draw her thoughts back towards her dad while he goes on about all the places around the city they need to take Kelley. 

The Morgans have spent four consecutive Januarys in the cold winter air of Switzerland, sitting patiently at a gala that is the only place in Alex’s career where a win has eluded her, but hours before they slip off to their rooms on the night before, Pam puts a hand on Kelley’s arm in the hotel bar and tells her she feels like good luck.

“On a scale of one to ten, I’d give you at least a fourteen.”

“I’m being serious.”

“Me too.”

It’s dark in their hotel room and Kelley’s cheeks are still warm from drinks at the bar and Alex pressing her against the door of their room after they’d stumbled happily off of the elevator at their floor.

Alex shifts beside her, her limbs tangling in the heavy layer of extra winter blankets until she’s draped across Kelley, her face buried in the soft skin of the defender’s neck.

“Kell, if I win-”

“When you win.”

“If I win, I’m probably going to mention you by name.”

It’s said softly and asked like a question she already knows the answer to.

Alex can feel the response vibrate in Kelley’s throat and it feels like morse code only she can understand, two words that say everything.

“You better.”

* *

The limo doors open onto the red carpet and it’s organized chaos in Zurich.

Heif is there to direct them through the traffic, and Kelley finds reassurance in his familiar face among the sea of strangers behind guardrails and flashing cameras who shove microphones their way and shout directions at them in foreign languages. 

Gareth Bale is on the carpet in front of them, and the cameras that had flashed for him double with intensity when Alex and Kelley start their long journey towards the gala. They turn and smile in all the directions they’re supposed to, arms around each other’s waists in a way that doesn’t really betray anything. Kelley can feel Alex's nerves across her back. Heif trails behind them, and Alex turns to him for clarification when the press line’s shouts intensify. 

He looks at them like he has a secret he doesn’t want to share and then, “They want pictures of just Alex.”

Kelley smiles at his discomfort, “It’s cool, Heif. It’s Alex’s night, plus she looks ridiculous in that dress. It needs its own picture.”

She starts to step away but there are fingers on her wrist that tug her back.

“Tell them no solo pictures, if that’s ok with Kell.”

Kelley knows what it might mean to walk the length of this red carpet the way that she suddenly wants to with Alex, that what was always so fiercely theirs will be talked about by people they don’t know, that the way she loves Alex will be judged or applauded, and very much public. She knows how quickly their lives might change in front of the sea of camera flashes and news that travels across the ocean at the speed of light.

When she laces her fingers with Alex’s, it’s to say, “I’m glad to be in love with you in front of all these people.”

The cameras catch Alex’s smile, big and wide, but it’s not meant for them.

There’s a yell from behind the barricade, an English accent still wailing about getting a picture of Alex alone, not realizing what’s just happened in front of him, and Alex turns towards the noise, both of her hands wrapped around Kelley’s, and shouts a defiant, ecstatic refusal.

* *

When Alex wins the Ballon d’Or there’s a shake in her voice when she thanks her team, and her family, and Kelley, for wearing her belief in Alex across her boots.

 

* * *

 

The morning is quiet on their last day together.

Alex is up first, and Kelley watches her from their bed as she re-checks her suitcases and dresses without urgency, as if time will slow to match her pace. It takes an extra nudge from Alex to pull Kelley from bed, and there’s something that feels like an apology in Alex’s touch when she sits next to Kelley, a press of lips to her temple that lingers until Kelley nods her head and starts to move.

While she brushes her teeth, Kelley can’t stop staring at the tube of toothpaste that Alex is leaving behind in the medicine cabinet, tucked between Kelley’s mouthwash and the bottle of perfume Alex had brought her home from her last trip to New York. It’s a weird reminder of the time they’ll spend apart, that Alex will be back, but not soon enough to salvage her toothpaste. Kelley can’t stand the citrus flavor Alex likes, but it’s what she tastes like in the early mornings and late at night, and she pushes the tube farther back into the medicine cabinet because she doesn’t want to think about it.

Instead she thinks about Alex’s half-eaten box of sugary cereal in the cupboard, and the newly opened gallon of skim milk in the fridge that she won’t be able to finish on her own before it spoils. She’s rinsing when she remembers that Alex’s car tags expire next month and Kelley wonders if Alex remembered to pay for them or if she’ll need to take care of it. Alex is suddenly in the doorway, hands shoved into the pockets of her sweats, silently hovering like she doesn’t want to ask Kelley if she’s ready to go. Kelley starts to ask about the tags, and it almost feels casual when she steps towards Alex, like this is just another day, but when Kelley opens her mouth the words stick in her throat, and there is something like a sob that threatens to escape and she has to clench her jaw shut to keep it from weighing Alex down.

They’ve been awake for an hour, but neither of them have said a word.

* *

Her parents take their time saying goodbye. Pam twists her fingers around the ends of Alex’s ponytail while Mike hugs her tight, not afraid of who might see him cry in the middle of a crowded airport.

Kelley gives them space, finding limited distraction in the twist of a ring, and adding Munich to the weather app on her phone while she tries not to hear Pam cry.

Alex hugs her parents one last time and then Kelley can no longer ignore the knot in the pit of her stomach, because when Alex turns towards her, it’s for the last time in a span that will be measured in months instead of days or hours. 

It’s a fleeting moment, one that comes when Alex’s shaking hands cup her cheeks, but there’s a want deep in Kelley’s bones to make Alex stay because suddenly two and a half years next to this person doesn’t seem like enough. Kelley doesn’t want to forget the lines of Alex’s face, the slope of her nose, or what her laugh sounds like in the morning when it’s muffled against Kelley’s skin.

It’s tight in her chest, the weight of her decision to encourage Alex towards Germany while she stays behind, but she feels guilty for questioning it, for the fleeting selfishness in wanting Alex to stay even if she never said the words out loud.

She kisses Alex hard, to say goodbye and that she’s silently sorry for wanting her to stay, and she pulls them together tightly, her hands knotted around the collar of Alex’s coat, and tries to memorize the pattern of the heartbeat against her ribs.

“Alex, I love you,” she says softly, and they’re the first words she’s spoken all morning, and once they start they don't stop. “You’re the love of my life and you have been for a long time, since before you told me in the tunnel or kissed me in the kitchen. Maybe I’ve loved you since London. And sometimes I wish I’d told you sooner, but you knew when we were both ready, and you know now.”

The security line doubles behind them, and Alex really needed to go five minutes ago, but she leans down to kiss a trail across the bridge of Kelley’s nose, patient and gentle, moving wide enough to catch the quiet tears that have started to slip down her cheeks.

“I don’t want to go,” Alex whispers, the weight of Kelley’s words curling Alex around her until her face is buried in Kelley’s neck so tightly the rest of her words are muffled by skin and the collar of a coat. “I love you and I don’t want to go.”

“You have to go,” Kelley says, forcing away the shake in her voice because Alex needs it. “Go score some goals, and make me proud. I’ll see you in the Algarve. I love you.”

Alex kisses her again, and there are words whispered in Kelley’s ear that force a smile and one last kiss, then she is gone.

Kelley cries a little in the middle of the airport, but no one can see because there’s a Morgan on either side of her.

 

* * *

 

In the beginning, Germany feels farther away than Alex could have ever imagined.

She’s separated from home by an ocean and nine time zones, but the distance always feels bigger at night when she struggles to fall asleep next to a cold pillow and with the hollow quiet of a bedroom that will always feel temporary. She’s spent a lifetime on the road, learning to adjust to different mattresses and the stiff discomfort of hotel bedding, but there had always been a teammate across the room or Kelley across the gap in the bed, and the nights feel lonely and long without either one.

The mix comes two weeks after sleepless nights that Alex doesn’t have to mention to Kelley, the link in the email titled “go to sleep you big baby (i miss you the most at night, too)”. It’s twelve tracks of soft indie love songs that are maddeningly Kelley, and for three straight weeks she falls asleep with her in a different way, and it’s almost close enough.

* *

She shares a house with her two other American teammates, and they tutor her in the necessities of German life on the long drive to practices. It’s a slow adjustment, and the language comes even slower, but there’s no need for shaky translations when there’s a ball at her feet.

She comes off the bench in her first game of the season, and the German crowd is loud at the chance to see their expensive new American. There’s a knot in her stomach when she steps onto the pitch, and she’s nervous for a beat, but it’s quickly swallowed away by the thrill that comes from having to prove herself all over again in a place that isn’t hers.

Alex hits the post twice on breakaways that leave defenders scrambling after her, and the anticipation from the crowd to see what she can do buzzes loudly around her until she hits a laser into the upper corner minutes into stoppage time. It’s an insurance goal, but when the stadium roars it sounds something like home, and the crush of her new teammates feels almost familiar.

There’s a rambling speech from her coach in the locker room after and Alex doesn’t understand a word of it, but the enthusiastic thumbs up doesn’t need interpretation.

Germany starts to feel warmer.

 

* * *

 

In the first three weeks Alex is gone, Kelley spends every cold winter morning dragging herself out of bed and across town to morning training sessions with the scattered group of teammates who stayed in Los Angeles.

In the parking lot afterwards, they knock mud from their boots and talk about Syd’s latest boyfriend or upcoming camps, and sometimes the talk turns to rumors about a league. Tobin tries not to sound too excited when they share the bits and pieces of what they’ve heard, but Kelley won’t put stock in rumors again.

On the afternoons that Syd and Tobin don’t try and drag her out to lunch and a movie, she naps on the couch, still dirty and damp from training, and misses the weight of Alex stretched out alongside her. Some of those afternoons she sleeps too late and wakes in a cold sweat to a quiet house, the time zones counted on her fingers telling her it’s too late to try and catch Alex on skype. She cooks dinner for one with an episode of Alex’s saved tv shows playing in the background, and almost feels bad about finding the life of an out of contract pro soccer player to be mostly boring and lonely.

* *

The offer to coach comes out of nowhere, a random email from a friend of a friend from college, but the high school one city over is in desperate need of a coach after theirs accepts an offer to play in Europe.

Kelley is tired of Europe.

She gets sixteen players, a forest green windbreaker, and something to fill the achingly quiet afternoons. There’s an office that’s just hers tucked into the farthest corner of the gym, and Kelley’s proud of the dusty desk and the office chair that squeaks when she leans back to prop her feet up on her first day. Alex is on the phone telling her how excited she is for her while Kelley fiddles with the zipper on her new windbreaker, and it all feels a little surreal.

The players call her ‘Coach’ and they spend most of the first practice alternating between staring at her with mouths held open by disbelief, or stumbling over nerves and clumsy feet when she runs them through drills. 

The second practice she steps in to scrimmage with the uneven numbered team. She’s nutmegged within five minutes, it’s a calculated and ruthless move that leaves Kelley rooted to the ground and staring wide-eyed at her feet. When she looks up she sees that the game has stopped and the sophomore who did it looks legitimately concerned about having just shown up her coach until Kelley laughs big and tracks her down for a high five.

It’s during the post-practice cool down session that a freshman works up the nerve to ask her where she keeps her gold medals, and the questions they’ve all stored up for days suddenly come out like a flood.

They ask about Boss and Syd and the countries she’s played in. There are questions about how she trains and what she eats before games, and who is the best roommate on the road. And then there are questions about Alex.

Their coming out in Zurich had stayed mostly under the radar back in the states. Alex had fumed for days at Kelley being listed as her teammate in the captions of their red carpet pictures until Kelley had kissed the words away and told her she didn’t need to call Sports Illustrated on Kelley’s behalf, that that moment was for them and for everyone else to figure out on their own. 

When the shyest girl on the team asks Kelley if Alex is her roommate in a tone that suggests she’s figured it out on her own, the rest of the team falls silent and Kelley knows they’ve figured it out too. 

“Alex and I live together, yes” she says in a way that answers their question enough for a person in her position. There’s an incidental touch to the ring on her finger, a nervous habit and a subconscious reminder of the life she’ll get after Germany, and the players that catch it feel like they’ve been let in on something important to their coach. 

There aren’t any nerves at the next practice.

 

* * *

 

Alex goes on a tear in Germany.

She scores in four straight and Kelley catches most of the games on a shaky stream in the Morgan’s living room, sandwiched between Mike and Jen on the couch, the three of them a loud wave of red jerseys at eight in the morning.

Alex feels slightly ridiculous tucking the German newspaper under her arm in the mornings after a match, and it only gets worse when she has to carefully trim the small mentions of her games from the newspapers at her mom’s request. Sometimes there’s a picture and a bigger headline, but they all get slipped into an envelope and sent to Los Angeles. Her mom tucks them into a book or sticks them to the fridge in between pictures of Kelley and Alex and Jeri and Jen, and that small section of newspaper cut from the local section about the gold medalist coaching St. Anthony High School’s soccer team.

While Alex’s team slowly climbs the table, Kelley’s team goes the opposite direction. For awhile.

They lose the first three games of the season and the team doesn’t find a lot of comfort in the narrow margins of their defeats. Their heads hang low in the locker room and on the team bus after, and Kelley is afraid to ask if the team thinks she’s disappointed in them.

They celebrate their first tie like it’s a championship. Kelley makes the bus driver pull over for ice cream even though it’s cold enough to see their breath as they shuffle off the bus. She makes an impromptu speech from the top of a bench, her half-eaten ice cream cone waved around while she stresses how proud she is of all of them, win or lose, but Kelley sees the way her girls look at her, the way they hang onto every word, and she knows they won’t lose again.

Kelley tells Alex about the game the next morning while she picks at her breakfast and Alex devours post-practice dinner. Alex calls her ‘coach’ around a mouthful of potato and Kelley likes the teasing tone of the nickname, but she doesn’t tell her that their teammates, mostly HAO, have started referring to Alex as ‘Mrs. Coach’. Kelley figures she can find out on her own in Portugal.

“Hey, guess what?” Alex asks, and she looks around the kitchen for any sign of her teammates before she leans closer. “Fifteen more days until I’m drawing patterns in those freckles across your knees.”

* *

The team’s flight to Portugal is delayed twice and Alex doesn’t even get released to the squad for another five days but Kelley paces the airport anxiously, as if someone is waiting on her. She checks flight statuses that never change and buys coffees that she forgets about until they’ve long since cooled. It’s Syd who eventually takes pity on everyone else and drags Kelley away from a very patient Rachel by the wrist and towards the news stand.

“Pick out something nerdy,” Syd says, positioning Kelley in front of a rack Popular Science magazines. “I’m going to find some ear plugs.”

Syd finds her later, skimming an article on urban development, her own purchases held securely to her chest.

“I bought you some crossword puzzles,” Syd says casually off Kelley’s look.

“Are they top secret or something?”

Syd looks down at the bag against her chest and grins, “I bought you a surprise, but you can only have it if you stop pacing and take a nap or something.”

Kelley agrees, and when they finally take off hours later she’s rewarded for her good behavior when Syd pulls her surprise out of her bag.

She holds it delicately, and the weight of the wedding magazine is significant in her hands. It feels real in that moment, that she gets to marry her best friend, and she leans across her seat to kiss Syd on the cheek before turning open the cover carefully. Syd pulls a notepad from the shopping bag and clicks open a pen.

“Now, let’s take some notes.”

* * 

Three days into the tournament Kelley and Syd have flipped through the wedding magazine so many times that the pages are worn and curling at the edges. It’s their little secret for awhile until Megan walks in on them stretched across Syd’s bed, circling things with a marker. Megan doesn’t miss a beat, flopping onto Kelley’s unoccupied bed and kicking her shoes off.

“Kell, how many mason jars are you going to have at your hipster wedding?”

Kelley doesn’t look away from the dress Syd is pointing out when she answers.

“A whole fucking lot, dude.”

* *

What had always seemed like a permanent California tan fades away in the two months of gray German skies and heavy winter coats. It’s the first thing Kelley notices when she walks into her hotel room to find Alex sitting on the edge of her bed, two hours earlier than expected. 

Alex is across the room in two steps.

Kelley presses fingertips to the lighter skin along Alex’s forearm, her boot bag still tossed over her shoulder, and Alex seems taller when Kelley grabs her wrist and eases up onto the tips of her toes to kiss her the way she’s wanted to for two months. 

Sydney clears her throat loudly behind them.

“So do you guys want to go down to team dinner now, or should we all catch up for a few minutes first?”

“Bye Syd,” Alex smarts without looking away from Kelley, who smiles big and happy before leaning up to kiss her again before the door can even click shut behind a cackling Syd.

“I missed you,” Alex breathes into the curve of neck, even though Kelley already knew.

They’re twenty minutes late to the team dinner, Tobin still chewing firsts while she’s in line for seconds, and neither of them think to slow down the heavy conference room door that slams shut loudly behind them. The entire team turns to look their way, Kelley’s hair a telltale mess, and Alex catches sight of Megan just as she grins wickedly and wolf whistles so loudly it echoes through the room twice.

* *

Alex looks different on the ball and Kelley seems to notice it before anyone else. 

It’s as if the few rough edges that had stubbornly remained after years of practice have been polished smooth by a trip across the ocean, and when Alex takes a deft touch around Kelley in morning training the defender stays rooted to the ground with the slightest bit of awe. Alex pays for it later with a clean tackle from Kelley that leaves her brushing dirt from her shorts, and listening to Tobin laugh from the other half of the field.

Kelley finds a new scar after an easy win over China. It’s a nick just below her elbow that her fingers find when they’re tracing across Alex’s arm in bed. It’s pink and raised, a permanent reminder that their lives have carried on without each other, and Kelley presses her thumb to it and asks Alex for the story behind it. She tells Kelley about a misstep in training and a teammate’s studs clipping her just right, the way the blood had dripped down her fingers and stained her favorite pair of boots. She laughs when she talks and Kelley can tell Alex already loves Germany. Kelley ignores the twist of her stomach and kisses at the smile that still lingers long after Alex has stopped talking. There’s a shirt on the ground and hands in her hair, and Alex whispers stupid German words across Kelley’s collarbone until there’s a laugh loud enough to let them forget about the distance.

* *

Algarve Cup ends with a new trophy and gates at opposite ends of the airport. It’s Alex who has the hardest time letting go of Kelley’s hand, and she waits until the last possible minute again to leave, and then she’s gone after one last kiss to the crown of Kelley’s head. Kelley doesn’t cry, but it feels harder than the first time until Lauren is next to her, slipping her hand into the one still warm from Alex. Kelley drops her head onto Lauren’s shoulder, and feels grateful for her team.

There’s a text when she lands, hours old because Alex’s flight was half a day shorter than hers, and it has her digging through her carry on and tracking down Syd with a smile.

“I might have found that wedding magazine, and now I can’t stop picturing you in that dress on page 43.”

 

* * *

 

Kelley finds steadiness in her other team, too. For awhile.

They win three while she’s in Portugal, and another two when she comes back. Their final game of the regular season ends in a draw but it’s enough to get them into the playoffs for the first time in two years.

Kelley catches sight of Tobin and Sydney in the stands after the game, the two of them tucked in the bottom corner near the railing in an attempt to stay low key. They take her to dinner after endless pictures in the locker room with her team, and Kelley swatting Syd away when she finds the picture of Alex on her office desk. Tobin tells her about the contract in Sweden halfway through Kelley’s second beer. Syd looks sad and Tobin can only shrug her shoulders.

“I need to play.”

* *

They lose in the first round of the playoffs on penalty kicks after a scoreless draw. 

It’s the worst way to lose and Kelley has to console her captain in the middle of the field, the sound of the ball clipping the outside of the post still ringing in both their ears. She’s proud of these girls with their tear-stained faces, and she tells them in the locker room and as they pile onto the bus, and she tells them again the next morning when they turn in their jerseys.

The struggling freshman forward she’d convinced to transition to outside back at the beginning of the season to fill a roster gap, and because she’d seen a spark of something familiar, makes the all-district second team, and when she turns in her jersey she promises Kelley they’ll go even further next year.

Kelley doesn’t know where she’ll be next year, she never really knows, but it doesn’t feel like a lie when she smiles back at her protege and says, “Yeah we will.”

 

* * *

 

Tobin leaves for Sweden, Whitney goes to England, and Kelley turns in the keys to her little office in the farthest corner of the gym.

There’s a new ache in her chest when she watches Alex’s streamed games from her living room, still in the training clothes she’d worn to an uninspired morning practice with Syd and their shrinking group of teammates. Alex dances around the ball, and the defender bites too hard, and Kelley swears Alex smiles when she flies past her effortlessly.

Tobin’s words echo in her ear. She wants to play. She needs to play.

* * 

Alex doesn’t get released for the friendly in May, and no one has talked about the league in weeks. Kelley buys a plane ticket to Munich for the day after the game, and it feels like the start of a decision.

 

* * *

 

It’s a thirteen hour flight from Los Angeles to Munich and Kelley spends half of it over thinking the friendly and the way her touches on the ball felt too heavy, or how her speed was half a step too slow against the English forwards. The rest of the flight she just thinks about Alex.

The airport is an unfamiliar mess of people and she’s trying to remember where she was supposed to meet Alex when someone yells her name. Kelley’s suddenly overwhelmed at the sound of Alex’s voice, husky and clear instead of muddled through laptop speakers, and she turns to see her standing in the perfect split of the crowd, fresh from practice and still in her warm ups. Luggage is forgotten at her feet, and Kelley kisses Alex hard.

Alex laces their fingers together and leads the way towards baggage claim, and they watch the bags circle the carousel, Kelley’s nose pressed into Alex’s shoulder so she can memorize the way she smells in her new city, Munich air mixed with Alex’s shampoo. 

Kelley breathes deep.

* *

The stadium is only half full, but they’re loud for their team and their high-scoring American. The city loves her, the boy sitting next to Kelley wears ‘Morgan’ on the back of his full kit, and she knows Alex loves the city back by the way she plays, passionate like she’s always been but with an easy freedom that Kelley’s never seen her play with. Kelley watches Alex smile on the jog back from a shot that goes just over the crossbar, and she knows this place has changed her.

Alex scores just before the half and she finds Kelley’s face in the crowd and pats the space over her heart. Save for that brief moment in the airport, she’s never really questioned her decision to push Alex towards Germany, but in the stands surrounded by chanting Germans she questions why she didn’t encourage herself to go too.

The security guard looks nervous when Alex starts to climb the railing after the final whistle but she makes it up in one piece and tugs at the end of Kelley’s Bayern scarf until her flushed cheeks are in Kelley’s hand and she’s kissing her quick in the noisy stadium.

“How’d I do?” Alex sort of half-yells, out of breath but completely sincere, and Kelley kisses her again.

“You looked damn good, buddy,” Kelley yells before leaning in to whisper something in Alex’s ear. There’s a nod, and Kelley’s lip dragging across Alex’s retreating cheek, then Alex leans over to tug on the sleeve of the boy wearing her name.

* *

On her third night in Munich Alex’s teammates drag them to a club with house music so loud Kelley’s sure the bassline is changing the rhythm of her heartbeat. Alex’s fingers are pressed into her hips, and while the rest of the club bounces around them, she kisses Kelley like it’s her last night on Earth. Someone taps them on the shoulder eventually, an American teammate with a round of shots, and they break apart long enough to let the shot of jager coat the back of their tongues before the American teammate is motioning for them to carry on as she retreats back into the crowd. Alex’s laugh is the only thing Kelley can hear above the music.

If she hadn’t made her decision two days ago Kelley would be sure of it by now.

* *

“Are you gonna stay in Germany?”

It’s almost the same conversation they’ve had before, but this time in a different city, and at a different breakfast table. It’s Alex’s feet that are tucked up onto the rungs of Kelley’s chair, and she chews her toast carefully while she considers her answer.

“I think so,” Alex says softly, the tone in her voice surer than the words she uses. 

“Good,” Kelley says as she reaches for Alex’s toast. She bites off the corner and slips a hand into the one Alex has clenched under the table. “Because I just sent my agent an email asking him to find me a team over here.”

Alex is quiet for a stretch, but the joy is painted across her voice, and then it’s in the crack of her voice when she smiles at Kelley and asks, “Really?”

“I see the way you play now, and how free you look while you do it. I want that again. And I want you. Plus, you know, there’s all that beer.”

Alex smashes her lips against Kelley’s, and the stolen toast with the missing corner is knocked to the floor and Kelley leaves buttery fingerprints across Alex’s neck.

 

* * *

 

They take a long vacation in the middle of June, Alex halfway through her month long break from the German team that will officially be hers again for another six months. They spend a week in a rented house down in San Diego, surfing in the morning and curling around each other at night, Alex sitting on the counter while Kelley tries to remember how to cook with distractions tracing across her skin.

There’s a warm morning at the beach, Kelley on the water before anyone else until tourists start to drop in on her waves and the rumble in her stomach is too loud to ignore. Alex is stretched out across the sand near Kelley’s pile of things, letting the California sun paint her skin golden again, and she hands Kelley her phone and a cup of coffee.

“Your agent called twice, left a couple voicemails. You should check them, and then I’m taking you to breakfast.”

Kelley checks her phone and there’s an email more recent than the voicemails, one from her agent that’s marked urgent. When she opens the email it’s like she can feel everything click into place. Her hand reaches for Alex’s wrist, and everything is covered in sand.

“Essen wants me for six months.”

 

* * *

 

At SGS Essen they give her the captain’s armband and a squad that seems impossibly young. The average age of her backline is nineteen until Kelley ruins the curve, and it’s almost impossible not to feel her age a little after two-a-day practices and scrimmages that have her defending speedy forwards ten years younger than her.

The armband feels foreign against her skin in their first game of the season. Kelley tries to remember the way HAO leads and Alex directs traffic, but it becomes her own way when there’s an early goal in the back of their net and she huddles them together on the pitch, calm and reassuring when she tells them to “just keep playing” in rapidly improving German. There’s a sprint across the field to talk down the ref who’s eager to pull a card on their youngest midfielder, and she’s patient but firm when her rookie center back gets caught ball-watching on a play that leaves their keeper scrambling. 

When the final whistle blows it’s in her bones and the steadiness of her voice, like she was always meant for it.

They lose the game, but only by a goal, and she wakes the next morning to muscle aches that feel familiar and wanted. There’s a shadow of bruises across her arms from fingertips that grabbed and the sharp jut of an elbow, and the skin across her thigh is scraped to hell from tackles at high speed, but she finds a strange joy in the pain that comes from a game well played.

“I like it here,” Kelley tells Alex later over skype in the same time zone, and it doesn’t feel like a surprise to either of them.

* *

They’re three months into the season and firmly holding onto a spot halfway down the table when Bayern Munich and Alex come to play them at home.

Kelley spends most of the pre-game warmups talking the nerves out of her youngest starters, and the locker room speech is loud and high energy and almost enough to quell the butterflies in her own stomach. She doesn’t look at Alex when they line up in the tunnel, nerves and competitiveness battling it out in her chest, but when they march out onto the pitch, the stadium fuller than usual, she finds distraction in searching the stands for her family. She finds their four blue jerseys easily, seated next to the only four bright red jerseys in the stands, Alex’s mom next to hers. Kelley looks down the row of players all facing the flag and catches Alex smiling across the field at the sight of them.

Essen starts shaky, intimidated by the league leaders in a way they haven’t been by any other team, and it’s as if they know what their captain is playing against. There’s a bad back pass on the far side and Alex pounces but the shot goes just wide and Kelley watches her defender take a breath so deep her shoulders nearly touch her ears before she’s motioning across the field for her to calm down, smiling because it’s only a game.

The second time she gets a shot off Kelley is less patient, and she tells the center back to force Alex to shoot on her right because her shot is weaker off that side. Alex scoffs on her run back past them, and Kelley knows it isn’t true, not anymore, but she just needs it in her defender’s head, and in Alex’s.

Kelley almost feels bad about how well it works.

They tie without a goal and Kelley knows it’ll be their biggest victory for the rest of the season, and her team celebrates like they know it too. Afterwards their families are loud in the bar near Kelley’s apartment, Erin and Jeri buying rounds of shots and attempting to flirt with their American bartender. Kelley sits near her mom, tucked into a table in a quiet corner, and it feels strangely normal to be sitting in a bar and drinking beer while her mom runs her fingers through her hair the way she’s always done when Kelley’s been gone for too long.

Across the room she spots Alex and Jerry sitting together at the bar, her little brother animated while Alex sulks and she’s across the room to rescue one of them before thinking twice. 

“Jerry, go away,” she grins, pulling at the collar of her brother’s shirt until he’s up and off the bar stool. She’s three beers in and too light on her feet, and Jerry’s hand is on her elbow to steady her as she slides onto the stool next to Alex.

“Jerry is drunk and teasing me about that tackle you got on me,” Alex rubs at her hip. “There’s already a bruise.”

“I’ll kiss it and make it better,” Kelley says in a voice so low it’s practically a growl, and when she leans across the gap between them to put hands on either side of Alex’s bar stool she’s met with stubborn resistance.

“You got in my head out there. On purpose.”

“I was trying to win, just like you. Now stop sulking and kiss me.”

“I don’t like playing against you,” Alex mumbles as she leans in to kiss her, the hint of a wicked smile curling at her lips.

It’s the opposite of gentle and Kelley doesn’t mind the frustration in Alex’s fingers or that they both taste like beer and sweat. There’s just relief in knowing their families have their own hotel rooms and that Kelley’s apartment is just around the corner.

 

* * *

 

November feels different.

Alex has a long stretch without a game and she takes the five hour train ride up to Essen to spend her nights next to Kelley and watch her play from up in the stands. She’s quiet behind the bench, ignoring the play of the ball to watch the way Kelley moves on the field, focused and sure. Alex thinks, years from now, when she remembers the way soccer made her feel in Germany, she’ll remember this version of Kelley.

After the game, Alex hopes she’ll climb the railing to kiss her, and Kelley does.

Kelley takes her to dinner, and it’s close enough to the stadium that they pull their coats tighter around their shoulders and walk, Alex’s arm looped through Kelley’s. They’re halfway through dinner, Kelley already picking at Alex’s plate and blaming it on post-game hunger, when their phones buzz with a new email.

The league is official, a firm list of cities with MLS-backed teams for them to pick from, and Alex finds herself scanning the list for anything in LA. Kelley finds it at the same time.

There’s a yearlong contract for Bayern Munich on her kitchen counter, and Alex likes the player she is here, likes how much she loves the game again, but she’s spent the last year in Germany with home always on her mind. She loves the city, but leaving it means getting to marry her best friend and playing the game she loves beside her again.

“What do you think?” Alex asks carefully, because as much as she wants to go home, she’ll re-sign with Bayern if Kelley wants to stay.

“I’m thinking LA would obviously be our first choice, but I like Portland as a backup. I’d like to stay on the west coast.”

“You want to go back?”

“Al, I came here because I couldn’t play at home, and because I missed seeing your face. If I can get both of those things back in the states, I’m not hesitating at taking that chance.” Kelley’s hand is in hers across the table, and it feels like the start of a new chapter. “What are you thinking?”

“I like Portland as a backup too,” and there’s a hitch in her voice that she doesn’t try to swallow away.

 

* * *

 

They’re home for good a week before Christmas.

Their small apartment by the beach is cold and dusty, but it still smells faintly like them, coffee and training gear mixed with the ocean. Suitcases are forgotten in the living room, and they leave a trail of coats and sneakers down the hallway that leads to their bedroom. They don’t bother to turn on a light, stumbling through the dark to slip under the cold sheets of their bed, Kelley moving and adjusting until she finds her favorite spot in the dip of the mattress next to Alex.

There’s a long release of breath, one that she feels like she’s been holding since Alex left for the first time, and she rolls in tighter, one hand slipping under Alex’s shirt, and the warmth beneath her palm is real and permanent and hers. Sleep won’t come for hours thanks to jet lag and a long adjustment to the right time zones, but they close their eyes anyway and the space around them is quiet and comfortable until Kelley breaks the silence.

“Al, what’s your greatest adventure so far?”

It’s not meant to be profound, an innocent question with so many answers, it’s typical Kelley at two in the morning, still curious to know everything she can about her partner even after so many years. There’s a montage already playing in Kelley’s head of their first world cup medal and how her heartbeat on the podium had made it bounce against her ribs, or their second gold in Rio and Alex’s eyes wide at Kelley’s question in the locker room after. Kelley pictures trophies in the Algarve and Alex’s first goal in Germany, or their allocation to the team in Los Angeles that still isn’t public yet. 

There’s a shift beside her and Alex’s breath is on her skin and Kelley thinks about how she traveled the world twice over to find that Alex had been beside her the whole time.

Alex’s hand slips into hers beneath the mountain of blankets, and Kelley presses the pad of her finger to the diamond on Alex’s ring until her skin has memorized the cut of the stone, and Alex’s answer is simple and ready, like she’d always been waiting for someone to ask her.

“You.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you know this wordy monster as 'soapy hands' then you're probably my favorite people.


End file.
